


A Different Kind of Blond

by enbyofdionysus



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 49,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1448224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the war with Gaea, Tartarus, and a break-up with Annabeth, Percy's anxiety has worsened to the point where he won't even leave his room. He expects to turn into a monster, to somehow die via panic attack if his dreams don't kill him first. However, what he doesn't expect is for Jason to like him the way he does and for a kiss on his birthday to lead to so much disaster. Or does it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

“Percy?” 

“Percy, hey. It’s Jason. Open the door.”

“Percy?”

“I know you’re in there man, come on. Open up. I just want to talk.”

“Percy?”

“Percy?”

“Percy, open the door.”

“Percy.”

“Percy.”

“Percy, _please_.”

“ _Percy_.”

Finally the knocks stopped and Percy rolled back over.

But he could never sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

How dumb had he been not to have even recognized a break up line?

That was the question Percy kept asking himself as he replayed the scene over and over in his head. It hurt too much to think about, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Her bunk had been warmer than usual as if someone had recently been sitting there and the room had smelled faintly of perfume. It hadn’t registered then, but it registered now:  _Annabeth didn’t wear perfume_.

“We need to talk,” Annabeth had told him gently when he came in.

The war had been over for a week and they were steadily making progress across the sky over the Atlantic. The strawberry fields of Camp Half-Blood were only one more day away and it was something Percy felt all too excited for; he wanted to share with Frank and Hazel what they had shared with him at Camp Jupiter.

Annabeth patted the spot beside her on the bed and Percy plopped himself down, looking at her expectantly. She looked tired and drawn out, the scars from the war’s previous battles still healing on her arms and face. Still, Percy thought, she couldn’t have looked more beautiful. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she said.

"Yeah?" Percy asked.

He had actually been afraid she was going to talk to him about college. They’d mentioned it while they were in Tartarus; Annabeth had asked him what he would study. Percy had no idea. He’d already missed an entire year of High School and besides, his grades were definitely not the greatest. Even if he managed to somehow get a scholarship and pay the rest of his tuition through prostitution, there was no way he’d be able to handle the schoolwork. College wasn’t what it advertised itself to be – a learning environment with kids in sweatshirts, smiling and reading. It was  _difficult_. And if High School, in just its first two years, had been hard for him… What would  _College_  be like? He’d end up failing out of Literary Studies 101 and leaving a massive hole in half the school because of some monster. 

“You know I love you,” Annabeth said and suddenly Percy recognized something in her voice that sounded strange. She sounded hesitant, pained.

“Of course,” Percy said, watching her with concern. He leaned forward and touched her hand. “What’s going on, Annabeth?” He thought of what she’d said before:  _Ask me when we defeat Gaea_. Was this what this was about? He’d thought what she wanted to tell him was going to be exciting, something happy. A marriage proposal, plans for their first house. Or maybe less extreme, a cabin together. She’d told him they would never be separated again and he’d said the same to her.

Funny how the Fates have the last word.

She pulled her hand away and bit her lip. “Percy,” she said. “I’ve been…  _dealing_  with something for a while that I’ve been trying to understand. Some emotions.”

“Yeah?”

“And it’s not… It’s not that I don’t care about you. I do. But I’m just not… ”

“Just not what, Annabeth?”

She looked at him and studied him for a long moment. Then, her voice even, she whispered, “I don’t think I’m the girl for you, Percy.”

The bed seemed to drop out from beneath him.

“ … What?”

The steadiness of her voice wavered. “We both want different things from each other that I don’t think we can give–”

“Annabeth, what are you talking about?”

“–and I think it might be better if we just stay– stay  _friends_. Percy, don’t look at me like that, please. I’m trying to explain.”

“What do you mean we want different things from each other–?”

“Percy, I love you.”

“Then why are you saying this stuff? This doesn’t make any sense. I don’t–”

“But I also love someone else.”

For a second the only thing Percy could hear was his own blood rushing through his ears. He stared at her, unblinking. “You what?”

“It’s been something that’s been bothering me since before Camp Jupiter,” Annabeth said and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I thought it was just something that would go away, that was just a crush. But it… Percy, please, I don’t want to lose you, but these are emotions that I just– I need to figure them out.”

“Was it… Is it Jason?”

“What?” Annabeth turned to look at him, confused.

“ _Is it Jason?_ ”

“ _No_ , Percy.”

“Who is it, then?”

“Percy, that doesn’t–”

“It matters to me! Who is it?” He needed to know. He needed to know who it was that she was leaving him for.

_Leaving him…_

The thought made his heart stop. It bit into his chest like the jaws of a Hell Hound. “ _Who is it?_ ” Was it Frank? Was it –  _oh gods_ , was it Leo? If she said Nico, he was going to be sick.

“Percy–”

“Who is it!?”

Annabeth’s mouth opened and closed and then in a small voice, she said, “Piper.”

… What. “What?”

“It’s Piper.”

… Piper.

“But Piper’s a…”

They stared at each other.

"Oh.”

“Percy, I’m sorry.”

“Oh.”

“Percy–”

“I think…”

“Percy, please.”

“I think I need to go.”

His words broke something in her eyes, but at that point Percy had to leave. He had to leave the room. The lower deck. The ship. The ocean. Everything. He had to leave. Leave. Leave leave leave.

 _Piper_ , his brain said.  _Piper McLean_.

 _Piper_ , who was a  _girl_.

Piper’s a  _girl_.

Annabeth is in love with Piper. Who’s a girl.

Annabeth’s leaving him. For Piper.  _Who’s_   _a girl_.

She’s leaving him for a  _girl_.

The more he thought about it, the more the world spun and he found himself clutching the edge of the ship on the upper deck, trying to keep his breath under control. If Annabeth had fallen in love with Jason, he could handle that. He could bulk up more, he could be more mature if that’s what Annabeth wanted. If she’d fallen in love with Frank, he could be more gentle, more soft, less of a prick. He knew he could be a douche bag sometimes, but he could change that. If she’d fallen in love with Leo, he could learn more about machines, try to find a medication that worked for his ADHD again and try to study. But Piper…

Piper was a girl.

Annabeth was…

He couldn’t…

He couldn’t compete with that  _at all_.

He was still trying to breathe when Jason found him.


	3. Chapter 3

He was still trying to breathe ( _one two three four_ ) three weeks later.


	4. Chapter 4

The only reason Percy took a shower was because his cabin was beginning to smell like the actual grease of his hair and his mouth tasted like film. He stood in the center of the tile, letting the water spray over him for fifteen minutes until he finally found the energy to move.

He scrubbed himself red, watching pieces of dead skin wash down the drain. However, even with the shower and brushing his teeth – there was blood in his spit – Percy still looked like crap.

He ran his fingers through his hair, staring at himself in the mirror. His tan had dulled down and gone back to its natural olive color, but his face looked more sickly than glowing. He wondered if shaving his hair would make him look worse or better, but before he could seriously contemplate it, he pulled on a dirty Camp Half-Blood t-shirt that smelled only vaguely like sweat and stepped out onto the porch of Cabin 3.

It had been three weeks since they’d arrived back at Camp Half-Blood, three weeks since he’d left his room. He’d heard people knock, heard people call out his name, heard people give up.

He’d never left.

He was only leaving now because, despite the generosity of the nymphs who’d been leaving him food outside his door every night, he could only take so much tofu and lettuce.

Percy trudged his way to the mess hall, refusing to look at anyone, talk to anyone, or even touch anyone. He just wanted to eat and go back to his room.

So he stood when the other campers stood, scooped a buttery patch of blue potatoes into the fire when they did, muttered a soft hello to Lady Hestia, and went back and sat down at his empty table.

Everything tasted like mud.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite the fact that his body seemed to function a little better after the meal, Percy regretted the excursion once he got back to his cabin; a knock came at the door before he could even take his pants off. For half a second, he debated pretending he’d already gone to sleep. It was possible, he’d seen the children of Hypnos do it in ten seconds flat, but he decided against the idea and grudgingly pressed his forehead to the door. His voice was exhausted and throaty. “ _Yeah?_ ”

“Hey. It’s Jason.”

Something twisted in the low of his stomach. “What’s up?”

“Saw you at the mess hall.”

“Congratulations,” Percy said and though it came out meaner than he meant it, he didn’t correct himself, “so did everyone else.” He started to pull down his sweatpants when he noticed a large hole in the side. He tugged at it absently and it widened under the worry of his fingers.

Just when he thought he’d scared the son of Jupiter off, Jason’s voice came again: “I’m proud of you.”

Surprised, Percy’s head snapped up and he stared at the door. “For what?”

“Getting dressed and coming outside.”

Percy scoffed. “That’s not something to be proud of someone for.”

“Sure it is,” Jason said. “You’ve been holed up in there since we got back. You’re finally moving around. That’s an effort.”

Percy said nothing. He crawled back on to the bed and leaned up against the wall. He wanted to lay down, but then Jason asked, “Can I come in?” 

The word “no” was on the tip of his tongue, but the one that came out before he could stop it was, “Yeah.” So Jason ended up sitting a little awkwardly on the other bunk across from him, dressed in cargo shorts and an orange t-shirt with a purple zip-up hoodie pulled over it. The clashing colors would’ve given Aphrodite an aneurism, but on Jason they didn’t look bad. Percy voiced that opinion and Jason gave him a small smile.

“Couldn’t choose just one,” he explained, indicating the orange and purple. He clasped his hands between his knees. “How’ve you been Percy?”

The look he gave was of genuine concern, so Percy decided to be honest. “Shitty.”

Jason nodded once. Then, slowly, he asked, “Do you have anything planned for your birthday?”

Percy stared at him, confused. “My what?”

“Your birthday,” Jason said. “It’s August 10th, right?”

"Yeah."

“Today’s the 10th.”

Percy blinked, trying to comprehend what he was saying. “Today?”

“Today,” Jason confirmed.

“Huh.” Percy looked down at his hands, expecting some kind of life-changing revelation to hit him. Nothing happened. “I’m 17,” he muttered.

“What do you say to a party?” 

Percy gave Jason a dead look, but it only succeeded in making the son of Jupiter chuckle. 

“It’ll be small. Just me, Frank, Leo, and Nico.”

"Nico?"

Jason nodded. “He’s been at Camp for a few days. Starting to get some color back in his cheeks.” He said it strangely, like he was talking about his two-year-old son who’d just broken a fever.

"That’s good."

“Yeah.” Jason nodded again. He looked at Percy expectantly. “So what do you say?” he asked. “Nothing too energy draining. A movie. A game of Apples to Apples. Leo got the Hermes cabin to sneak in some chips and soda.”

Percy couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “Maybe,” he said. He thought for a moment that Jason might protest to his hap-hazard agreement, but Jason didn’t. Instead, he stood.

“The door will be unlocked,” Jason said, burying his hands in his pockets. “So feel free to drop by at any time.” He went to leave, but paused and licked his lips. “I really hope you come. Not just because I want you to, but because …”

“I’m fine,” Percy assured him, but Jason gave him a look that said he knew better.

“I’m worried about you.” He stated the fact with such an integrity that it made Percy’s heart lurch. “So come over tonight. Please.”

He let himself out.


	6. Chapter 6

The idea of staying in bed all day again was tempting, but at the same time Percy knew he needed to be around other people, even for a little while. He’d been suffering from terrible nightmares every night for the past three weeks, visions of Tartarus dancing behind his eyes as he shuddered awake in a cold sweat. One thought in particular had been living inside of him like a tapeworm: Annabeth’s face when he’d choked that goddess on her own tears. 

Had Annabeth really broken up with him because she was in love with Piper, he wondered? Or was that just an excuse to get away from him because she saw something in him he couldn’t see? Something terrible? Something…

_… Monstrous?_

He was glad no other demigod shared his cabin because they would’ve thought he was insane, clutching at his necklace in the middle of the night and gasping while he counted numbers aloud trying to calm down, calm down, calmdown calmdowncalmdown _calmdown 1… 2… 3.. 4…_

After a dream in which he’d drowned his friends in their own blood, Percy decided he really didn’t like panic attacks so if socializing even for a little while would help distract him from the dark thoughts that caused them, he would resign himself to go.

Just trying to look decent emotionally exhausted him, but in remembering what Jason had said about a little effort going a long way, decided not to give up. Instead of attempting to tame his hair, he yanked on a beanie and sprayed himself with a nearly empty can of okay-smelling cologne. He pulled on a gray NYU pullover he’d gotten from his mom last Christmas and made the extra effort to exchange his sweatpants for a pair of black jeans. He had to pick a come stain off the left pantleg.

* * *

Zeus’ cabin was more intimidating now than it had ever been before. In reality, the white columns weren’t much taller than the front of a small house, but to Percy they stretched into the sky, looming over him like giants. When he warily came up the steps, the bronze doors shimmered and the lightning that flashed across their surface seemed to target him. In contrast to the overawing building was the sound of laughter coming from inside. The part of him that had been trying to get back under the bed sheets told Percy the people inside were laughing at  _him_.

His hand paused at the door as that thought swam its way around his head, but before he could turn around and go back, the door opened and who better to answer it than Superman himself?

Jason stood there, a lingering smile on his face and a blue solo cup in his left hand. He looked good. In fact, he looked more than good. His clothes weren’t clashing anymore. A long-sleeve black v-neck hugged his frame and similarly dark jeans completed the look.

Percy wanted to go home now.

“Hey,” Jason said, his smile softening. “You came.”

Percy offered a shrug. “Yeah, I… Yeah. Sorry, I should’ve… dressed a little better I guess.”

Jason looked confused, then looked down at himself. “Oh! No, you’re fine. This is just– Nico’s Italian style’s been rubbing off on me, I guess.”

Percy thought about Nico’s aviator jacket, his baggy skull t-shirt, and jeans and called bullshit. But he didn’t say anything.

Jason cleared his throat. “But yeah, no worries. You look fine.” Percy would’ve objected if that integrity in Jason’s voice wasn’t there again.

It scared him how effective it was.

“You coming inside?” Jason asked.

“Am I allowed inside?”

The son of Jupiter’s eyes crinkled. “Of course, man.” He stepped to the side and wrapped his arm around Percy’s shoulder. “Happy Birthday.”

Percy had never actually been inside Cabin 1 before. There were a series of niches in the marble walls holding small statues and icons and the ceiling was arranged in a tile mosaic made of white, silver, and gold. Occasionally, thunder rumbled through the building and the gold tiles of the mosaic flashed, but Jason didn’t react so it must’ve been a common occurrence. There was a statue of a scowling Zeus standing in the center of the cabin. A party hat had been pulled onto his marble head. 

“Leo,” Jason explained as they walked through. 

One of the lower niches in the wall had been converted into a small fireplace to keep the cabin warm at night and a twin mattress and box spring had been placed against the opposing wall. With a dark wooden dresser and a golden eagle statue perched over a desk where maps were laid out, the place looked like an immortal bachelor pad.

Fitting for a child of Jupiter.

Frank, Leo, and Nico sat around on the floor in what looked like a prayer circle for Lays potato chips and Coca Cola cans, pairs of red and green cards laid out before them. When Jason cleared his throat, they all looked up like one teenage entity.

“He lives!” Leo called, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey, man, Happy Birthday!” Frank exclaimed.

“Happy Birthday, Percy,” Nico said and Percy looked at him.

Jason had been right. Some color  _had_  returned to his cheeks. But more importantly, for the first time in a while he didn’t look at Percy with something close to resentment, which made Percy’s stomach twist.

He was glad. He wasn’t sure if he could handle someone else’s hatred toward him right then besides his own.

* * *

The night went better than he had expected.

No one brought up Annabeth and no one seemed entirely awkward around him. It felt refreshing to be able to just sit and listen without being judged or forced to participate.

Jason had intentionally decided to play Apples to Apples instead of Cards Against Humanity to try to keep the game relatively PG, but of course that was impossible with Leo in the room. What was worse was that, while Leo and Percy had never been really friendly with one another,  their senses of humor were similar enough where Leo could put down a card that was horribly dark and Percy would lose it. Luckily, dirty jokes were a universal thing and they’d go from a loud groan over the Hellen Keller card to hysterics over Choir Boys.

They chose to watch the movie after Leo won the third round.

The green card had been “Juicy” and, with Nico being the card holder, Leo knew exactly what to pull from his deck. Nico still had his head in his hands over the Mussolini card during the opening credits of  _Independence Day._

The portable DVD player was small and the screen was even smaller so they had to lay down on their stomachs, circled around it like a group of kindergartners, in order to watch. It was surprisingly comfortable and Percy found himself not wanting the night to end.

But like everything, it had to.

Frank and Leo left stifling their yawns with one last “Happy Birthday” and Nico disappeared into the shadows with a small salute.

Alone with Jason, Percy took an oreo from the last sleeve of the package and pulled the cookie apart. “Thank you for this,” he said. He didn’t look up, but instead ran the side of the cookie with the white cream down his tongue.

“You’re welcome to stay, you know,” Jason said, standing. He began rolling up the chip bags. “I know it might be lonely going back to your cabin all by yourself.”

“It’s not bad,” Percy said with a shrug. “Besides, I’m not sure your dad would appreciate me sleeping here. Taboo and all that.”

“Since when do you care about what’s taboo or not?” Jason asked, tossing an empty soda can into one of the niches. There was a rustle and a thump as it landed in the trash. “No offense.”

“I don’t,” Percy said. “I just, you know, don’t want to die.”

“Well, that’s good.” It was a generic reply, but there was something in the way he said it that bothered him. Jason set the chip bags next to one of the icons and moved to put the oreos away, but Percy took the sleeve and pushed two more cookies into his mouth.

“What do you mean ‘well, that’s good’?” Percy asked through his mouthful.

“Nothing. Just that it’s good you don’t want to die.”

“Did you think I was suicidal or something?”

“I never said that.”

“It was in the subtext of what you said.”

“There wasn’t any subtext, Percy.”

“I’m from New York City, Jason. I know my Theatre; there’s  _always_  subtext.”

Jason sighed and reached for the oreos again, but again Percy pulled them out of reach. “Alright, fine, I may have been worried you were a little suicidal.”

“You think I’m dumb enough to kill myself?”

“I don’t think you’re dumb and people who kill themselves aren’t either. They’re… desperate.”

“You think I’m  _desperate?_ ”

Jason hesitated, but then his jaw set and his eyebrows did that Father-Grace-is-speaking-child thing they did when he was serious. “I don’t think, Percy, I  _know_. You’re craving for something you can’t seem to find. It’s common in break ups. Some people are able to deal with that craving or can feed it with something else. For others it just goes away with time. And for others, still, they… Well, they don’t know how to deal with it. They go into a funk. Get depressed.”

“I’m depressed.”

“Yes, you are. You’re a guy who’s been giving himself a heck of a lot of grief trying to figure out when his relationship went wrong. Except you can’t seem to figure it out. You know why?”

Percy said nothing.

“Because you keep wondering what you did and, Percy, you did nothing wrong.” When it became evident he wasn’t going to get the oreos package, Jason sat down on the edge of the bed across from him, leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees. “There wasn’t anything you did to make Annabeth stop loving you romantically and start loving someone else that way. She realized something in herself she hadn’t recognized before and because she didn’t want to hurt you, she broke up with you before she could. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Percy scoffed. “You talk like you’ve been inside her head.”

Jason stared him down. “ _Do you understand what I’m saying?_ ”

Percy matched his expression, challenge for challenge.

Then he looked away. “I want her back,” he whispered.

“I know you do,” Jason said gently. “But you have to start taking care of yourself again, Percy. You stay in your room all day without any sunlight, without any proper food, without any kind of human interaction. This is going to sound really cheesy, but Percy, you’re keeping away the only medicine that can mend your broken heart. When people go to prison, there’s this place called The Hole where it’s complete solitude, nothing but darkness and their own thoughts. That’s where you’ve placed yourself, Percy. It’s the worst place in prison. Why are you willingly putting yourself there? You’re punishing yourself for something that isn’t your fault.”

“I can’t just get up and start being  _happy_  again, Jason,” Percy growled. “That’s not how it works.”

“I’m not asking that of you. I’m saying you need to get out of your cabin, eat something, interact with people. You haven’t been doing that and it’s effecting you. You need to distract yourself.”

“How can I distract myself when everything reminds me of her?” Percy asked and his voice sounded pathetic and whiny to his own ears. “There was never a time I was at Camp without her.”

“Have you thought about going back to Camp Jupiter?”

Percy looked up at him. “What?”

“If you need a place where you can move on, maybe that’s where you should go. We might be able to coordinate the camps better that way anyway.”

“I don’t think I want to go  _anywhere_  right now.”

“Well, we’ve got to do  _something_ ,” Jason insisted.

“Why do you even care?”

“I’m your friend.”

“ _Are_  you?” Percy glared up at him.

“ _Yes_ ,” Jason insisted. “We’re not our fathers, Percy. We don’t have to act like it.”

Percy scoffed and broke another oreo in half.

Jason snatched the sleeve out of his hands. “Don’t be an asshole. I’m trying to help you.”

“Well, thank you, Dr. Grace,” Percy snarled, “But I don’t need your help.”

“Is that so? Would you like me to get you a mirror? Because I’ll bet you fifty  _danarii_  you could win a Mr. D look-alike contest.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, Percy, fuck  _you_. I stopped trying to be Superman a long time ago. It’s you’re turn to stop.”

“I’m not trying to be  _anything_.”

“Then why don’t you accept my help?”

“Because I’m scared!” Percy roared. “I’m scared, okay?” He stood up angrily, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

Jason watched him, confused. “What are you scared about?”

“Everything! Annabeth was my everything, Jason! Freaking  _everything_. She was like Voldemort: my past, my present, my future,  _everything_! And now she’s  _gone_. I have absolutely no idea what to do with myself now. I’m a dumb teenager with crap grades and a crap attitude. The only reason people even look up to me is because of my father. Take Dad away and what do you see, Jason? Huh? What do you see?”

Jason stared at him.

“You see a welfare kid from Manhattan with dyslexia and ADHD. That’s all there is. Take away the title and you get ‘fuck up.’”

“Percy, don’t cry,” Jason whispered.

“I’m not crying.” Percy fisted his sleeve across his face. “Maybe it’s stupid, but Annabeth was like this little light at the end of a tunnel, you know? I might not’ve been able to buy her a nice house, but I could’ve protected it. Protected her. Protected the kids.”

“Kids?”

Percy shrugged and let his hands fall to his sides. “I figured if I suck at everything else, I could at least be a good father.” He stared at the floor.

“I don’t think you’re just a welfare kid from Manhattan,” Jason whispered. He stood.

Percy let out a wet laugh. “No, you’re right, I'm just–”

“Percy.”

“What?”

Jason reached up and pulled his head forward.

It took Percy a solid moment to realize what was happening was a kiss.

It had meant to be soft, but because Percy hadn’t seen it coming their teeth clacked and their lips pressed together too hard. But despite the initial awkward maneuvering, Percy’s heart and brain were going a mile a minute because  _Holy Hera_ , what what  _what_?

Confused, he fisted his hand in Jason’s hair, but he wasn’t sure if he was trying to pull the son of Jupiter off or pull him  _in_.

For the briefest of moments he was about to pull him in, but in that moment he thought of Annabeth.

And suddenly everything seemed wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

He brought his hands down from Jason’s hair to his shoulders and pushed. Jason gave a small flail and flopped backward onto the mattress.

He looked up at Percy, confused, aroused, expectant.

But something on Percy’s face must’ve given what he was feeling away because the son of Jupiter’s eyes were suddenly swimming with guilt and he moved forward saying his name.

But Percy couldn’t be there, couldn’t be there, couldn’t be there and, covering his mouth with one hand, he pushed Jason away again with his left and ran, ran, ran, ran,  _ran_.

The night air felt good on his flushed skin and the smell of the sea air as he shoved his way into Cabin 3 should’ve calmed him.

He puked in Poseidon’s fountain.


	7. Chapter 7

Jason wasn’t sure when it started. He liked to think it was after he and Piper had broken up, but he knew deep down that wasn’t true. He was pretty sure it began after Croatia, when Nico had come out to him and they made their way to the Doors of Death to save Annabeth and Percy.

Because of what Nico had told him, he started looking at Percy more critically, the way an older brother evaluates their sibling’s love interest: What was it about them that made them desirable? To Jason, Percy just looked like a normal guy. Tan, dark hair, green eyes, swimmer’s body. His personality could use some fine-tuning, but so could Jason’s, so he wasn’t one to judge.

No, he realized. It began when they were sparring.

A day or so after Nico, Reyna, and Coach Hedge had begun shadow traveling with the Athena Parthenos, they were making their way through the clouds of Europe. There hadn’t been any monsters for the last few hours and the boys on watch were growing more and more bored. Ergo, they decided on a friendly fight to keep things exciting. Piper warned them to  _keep it_  friendly.

Surprisingly, they did.

With each clang of metal and shift of the foot, a joke was made, a smile shared, a teasing push was given until they weren’t even sparring anymore. They were cracking up over trivial things like the way Jason’s nostrils flared when he was concentrating and the way Percy could go from grinning to straight faced in a matter of seconds (though the face always broke out into a grin again).

It had been a fun half-hour and it was nice to know that even after being in the depths of Tartarus for days, Percy could still laugh. But something had shifted from that point thereafter.

He started to notice things about the son of Poseidon he’d never noticed before: the way he always whispered  _blue cherry coke_  into his goblet despite the fact that Annabeth told him to drink water, the way his eyes crinkled at the sides when he smiled, the way he would sing softly in this raspy-sounding voice looking out at the stars when he thought no one could hear him. Jason hadn’t thought anything of it. That is, they were on watch one evening together.

They’d been talking, the soft glow of the sunset highlighting Percy’s face in a way that made Jason think Apollo was infatuated with him. Percy was recalling a time when he’d been with his mom on a beach called Montauk in New York.

“I should take you there sometime,” Percy told him and his eyes lit up at the idea. “We could bring the girls. Have a kind of double date thing. Those are still things, right?”

“Sounds like something out of a horror movie,” Jason admitted with a little grin. “Four teenagers go to a cabin on a secluded beach…”

Percy scoffed. “I think if we can take on the titans, we can take on a murderer.”

“It would be a little ironic if we couldn’t though, wouldn’t it?”

“Ironic, yes. Realistic, no.”

Jason raised his fist and Percy bumped it with a smile.

They went silent again, watching the sky, and in that silence, Jason felt an urge building inside of him to lean over and…

And what?

He couldn’t figure it out even after their watch ended and Frank, Annabeth, and Leo came out to take their place. It was only later, curled up in his bunk, that the dreams came and let him know just “and” was.

With his hand shoved down in his pajama pants and hips pushed up off the bed, Jason realized, biting his pillow to keep quiet, that it wasn’t Apollo who was infatuated with the son of Poseidon.

 _He_  was.


	8. Chapter 8

Jason’s new found feelings for Percy didn’t mean that Jason hadn’t been upset when Piper had broken up with him. A crush was nothing in comparison to dating someone for months. But at the same time, he didn’t make a big deal about it, which surprised even him.

He took Piper’s hands in his own, his throat tight, and told her that everything was going to be okay. He wasn’t angry; he was just glad she’d told him. He didn’t want Piper hating herself and her emotions like Nico did.

Of course, it still hurt to see her with Annabeth, but as long as Piper was happy, then Jason would learn to get over it. He’d met Cupid face to face, knew the power the god wielded. Love wasn’t something someone chose. He wasn’t going to be upset with someone because of that. Besides, what was the point of being in a relationship with someone whose affections lay elsewhere? Jason deserved someone who loved him and so did Piper.

The only thing he  _really_  mourned regarding the end of their relationship was that now Drew thought he was fair game and, well, he wasn’t about to date his ex-girlfriend’s sister. That was just…  _too_  Ancient Greek.

Was that racist?

Unfortunately, Percy didn’t take the heartbreak as well as Jason did.

The son of Jupiter had found him leaning against the wood at the front of the deck of the Argo II, his face gray-looking in the dark of the night. He looked as if he’d been crying, but whatever tears there had been had dried and gone, leaving Percy to stare out at the waves with empty eyes.

If he hadn’t known the connection and love Annabeth and Percy had shared with one another, Jason would’ve thought the son of Poseidon was being a little melodramatic. But at the same time, Percy’s reaction disturbed him a little. The small amount of time Jason had known him, he’d never seen him look so broken. Even after Tartarus.

Enraged? Yes. Cocky? Yes. Dumb? Definitely yes. But never broken.

It made Jason swallow hard.

However, while a little talking and shoulder squeezing may have gotten Percy off the deck and away from the cold night air, it didn’t get him out of his cabin at Camp Half-Blood.

For three weeks.

Jason had tried talking to him before, knocking on the door at odd intervals trying to catch him when he was awake. If he was ever awake. He’d heard Annabeth had gone to the door too only to get the same response: nothing. Chiron had tried, Frank had tried.

At one point, he’d overheard some frightening gossip from the Ares cabin. Someone had said they smelled a dead body when they walked past Cabin 3. Sweat building on his forehead, Jason went to check for himself.

There was no smell.

Finally, Jason asked the nymphs if they could possibly bring the son of Poseidon some food and leave it outside the door for him for fear that, if Percy wasn’t already dead, he’d starve himself to death.

After swooning over him with an embarrassing amount of confidence Jason could never achieve, the nymphs agreed.

He came back a few days later to ask about it.

The nymphs joyously informed him that the food had disappeared each night since. It was good news. It meant Percy was eating.

Even greater news was that after two and a half weeks of that, the son of Poseidon had finally made his way to the mess hall on the same day Jason had organized a tiny event for his birthday.

At first he thought it was a horrible idea because he knew that when people were depressed, socializing, especially at parties, tended to stress them out even more and Jason definitely didn’t want Percy to go back to Cabin 3 only to seclude himself for another month. So, he asked the only other person he knew who would know about depression and social conflicts: Nico Di Angelo.

In short, Nico certified the party as alright.

“He’s naturally an extrovert,” Nico said, dodging a misfired arrow as they made their way across the grounds. “If anything, I think that being away from people might be making him worse, like when a student studies for an entire week in their room by themselves. Eventually, they need to socialize or they’ll drive themselves crazy. For introverts, even when they’re not depressed, social events drain them. They’ll enjoy them, but they drain them. Extroverts are reinvigorated by them. So when an extrovert is depressed… Well, I’m definitely not an expert, this is just an idea. But. Maybe he doesn’t want to be alone like he thinks he does.”

“So he won’t hate me for the party?” Jason asked.

Nico shook his head. “Besides, if he hates you for it, he’ll probably just slam the door in your face.”

“I’ve never seen Percy do that.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

They watched some of the new campers jog over to the training arena. Few had personal weapons, many had borrowed ones too heavy for them to use. “Will you go?” Jason asked.

Nico looked up at him, squinting in the sun. “You want me to go?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, smiling. “Though, I mean, if you don’t want to go, that’s fine too. I mean with… With it being Percy…” For a second, he thought Nico would glower at him for mentioning it out loud, but instead Nico just shook his head.

“I’m passed that.”

“… Passed that?”

Nico’s cheeks reddened. “I’m in the process of getting over him, I mean. Reyna… Well, I’ve… I’m…” He seemed to swell, face twisting in frustration. His hand made some kind of coin-purse gesture and he moved it up and down. Jason held up his own hand to stop him before he could implode.

“I get it,” he said. He’s smiled. “You’re healing.”

Nico frowned a little at that, but didn’t argue. “I’ll go,” he decided. “Should I invite Hazel?”

It was Jason’s turn to blush. “Well, I was kind of hoping to keep it, you know, a guy’s night. That way it wouldn’t be completely obvious that… Annabeth–”

Nico nodded. “I got it.”

“Thanks.”

They shared a smile and when Jason left him, he couldn’t help but feel a little hopeful. If Nico could start to move on (and get a little healthier in the process), maybe Percy could too.

That hope had felt as if it’d been shot down by Pandora herself when Jason saw Percy at the mess hall.

The color of his skin had paled and his face looked thinner. His eyes, which usually sparkled with some kind of humor known only to himself, were dead. Jason wasn’t sure what had been running through the son of Poseidon’s head for the past three weeks, but whatever it was had run the Percy Jackson out of Percy Jackson. He said nothing to no one, looked at no one, and he was sure Percy had scooped his food into the fire for no one. He was silent for the entire dinner and he left the same way. Jason had been determined to break that silence, to make Percy smile and talk with that New York City accent like he did when he let down his guard.

He never meant for the kiss to happen. But now, thanks to his own dumb feelings, it did. Now the silence he had so wanted to break would stretch on for what felt like forever and it was all his fault.

“Shut up,” he whispered to his father’s judging statue. He ripped off its party hat.


	9. Chapter 9

His heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

Jason swallowed hard, watching Percy step closer to him, cock straining in his jeans. It was strange: Percy never made an entrance; he was always just there.

The son of Poseidon watched him with those hungry, green eyes and squeezed himself. “Jason?” he asked. His throaty voice sounded a little different, but Jason ignored it.

“Yeah?”

Percy tossed his shirt to the ground as he came closer to the bed. “Jason, are you there?” he asked. He ran his own hands down his chest, over his abs and to the band of his pants. “Jason?”

“I’m here,” Jason said with a nod, reaching out for him. Gods, he wanted him. Something itched at the back of his head. He ignored it.

“Jason, open the door,” Percy said. He crawled onto the bed, lips full and ready to be kissed.

“The door,” Jason groaned, reaching forward and gripping his hair. “You want the entire camp to see?”

Percy grinned. “Open the door, Jason.”

Jason leaned in. He could feel Percy’s soft, warm breath.

“Jason,” Percy whispered against his lips. “The door.”

“Why do you sound like Annabeth?”

“Jason!”

Jason jerked awake, hand immediately reaching for his gladius. Then he stilled. Listened. Looked. Sat up. He gripped the gold coin. The cabin was empty.

There was a series of loud knocks. “Jason!”

“Annabeth?” Jason called. He got up, hurrying over to the doors. He managed to pull on a shirt before he opened them.

Annabeth stood there on the porch, her hair in a ponytail and her knife at her belt. Her face was contorted with anger.

It’s your dying day, Jason’s brain whispered.

“What did you say to Percy?” she snapped.

“What? Nothing. Why?”

She made a wide gesture with her hands and for a second Jason was afraid she was going to hit him. “He’s gone.”

“… Gone?” Jason asked. His stomach sank. “What do you mean he’s gone?”

“He left for Camp Jupiter this morning.”

“This morning?”

“That’s what Chiron said. He made some sacrifice in the Sound to Zeus and took a plane.”

“What kind of sacrifice?”

“I don’t know, but it must’ve been big if he had the audacity to get on a plane. Percy might have a head full of kelp, but flying through Zeus’ realm was never something he did for the sake of being impudent.”

Jason ran a hand through his hair, trying to think. His throat felt tight as if someone were trying to strangle him with a bow string.

“Did you say something to him?” Annabeth asked softly. “I thought he went to a birthday party last night.”

“He did,” Jason admitted. “I… I suggested going to Camp Jupiter to help get over you. You know, being away from things that reminded him of you for a little while. But he said he didn’t want to.”

Annabeth studied his face. “Something else happened.”

The ground was suddenly immensely interesting.

“Jason, what happened?”

“… I can’t tell you.”

“You can trust me.”

“I know that. I’m…”

For some reason, he didn’t want to say it. If he said it, all fingers were pointed at him. Don’t be a coward, he told himself.

“… I kissed him.”

Annabeth stared at him.

“I kissed him last night,” Jason said again.

“He didn’t take it well.” It wasn’t a question.

Jason licked his lips, looking everywhere but at her face. “No. But he… At first, I mean, he kissed back. But then he… I don’t know. Pushed me away. Ran.” He leaned against the doorframe and laughed without humor. “Ran from me. Ran from the Camp.”

Silence drawled between them. Jason briefly wondered if maybe he’d done something he hadn’t even been aware of that night. Had he said something that upset Percy more than he meant to? Had his kiss carried more poison than love? Running away from a problem wasn’t in Percy’s nature. Neither was taking a plane. Or sacrificing something to Zeus. Especially a large sacrifice. I

It had only been a kiss. One kiss.

But could a kiss break someone?

Had he broken Percy Jackson?

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Jason looked up.

Annabeth met his eyes. “I was the one to kiss Piper.”

It took a moment for Jason to understand. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She paused as if waiting for a reprimand, but Jason said nothing. “Piper… I knew Piper felt something, but she reacted similarly to Percy. Of course, we were dating you two at the time, so she probably felt guilty, but…”

“It was a kind of identity crisis,” Jason said.

Annabeth nodded. “I’ve been trying to figure out my own emotions. It’s like being given instructions to build an aqueduct. But while everyone can read their own instructions–”

“You’re dyslexic.”

She smiled sadly. “Luckily, Piper’s been having an easier time with it.”

“How’s that?”

“Aphrodite cabin,” Annabeth said with shrug. “Apparently they’re prissy and refuse to touch a sword, but they’re also one big Gay Straight Alliance.”

Jason smiled. “Goddess of Love means all love.”

Annabeth nodded. “But anyway, like you said, it was an identity crisis. She loved you. Still does.”

“But it was too new for her to handle at the time.”

Annabeth nodded again. “Maybe… Maybe Camp Jupiter will do Percy some good.”

Jason licked his lips. When he first tried to speak, his voice broke. “Do you think I broke him.”

It was Annabeth’s turn to look pained. “I think I’m the one who did that, Jason.”

Jason reached forward and gently squeezed her arm. “You can’t always stop people from being hurt when it comes to love,” he told her.

“You should take your own advice.”

“Yeah, well. My kiss sent a son of Poseidon half-way across the country. Now what does that say about me?”

Annabeth laughed. Then frowned.

“What is it?” Jason asked.

“You know… When I was breaking up with him… I mentioned that I was in love with someone else.”

“Yeah?”

“And he asked… He seemed pretty concerned about whether or not it was you.”

“I’m not sure if that was because he likes me, Annabeth,” he said. “I think that was a jealousy thing. I’m at his level, after all.”

“That’s what I thought at first,” Annabeth said. “But when you add new data… Hm.”

They studied each other for a long moment.

“Do you know how long he’ll be gone?” Jason whispered.

Annabeth’s eyes softened. “I don’t know, Jason,” she said honestly. His heart panged at her words and he knew somewhere in Europe Cupid was laughing at him. “I don’t know.”


	10. Chapter 10

There was no letter. No phone call. No text message.

Jason considered an Iris Message, but figured it would be best to let Percy come to him on his own.

Days went by and there was nothing.

* * *

 

Days turned into weeks.

Jason told no one about what happened after the party except Annabeth. Not Nico, not Piper. No one.

* * *

 

Weeks turned into months.

Demigods went on the occasional quest and new ones came to camp to be trained.

There was no sign of Percy.

No letter. No phone call. No text message.

Jason considered an Iris Message, but figured it would be best to let Percy come to him on his own.

* * *

 

Two demigods were killed by a monster that winter. There was a small funeral.

Still no sign from Percy.

* * *

 

Months turned into a year.

No letter. No phone call. No text message.

Jason considered an Iris Message.

But he had already given up.


	11. Chapter 11

It was ironic, Jason decided, that a prophecy happened to come on the same day that three children of the Big Three happened to be at Camp Half-Blood for the first time in a year.

It was ironic, Jason decided, that a quest was called on the same day that three children of the Big Three (who were in a slight love 90-degree-angle) happened to be at Camp Half-Blood for the first time in a year.

It was ironic, Jason decided, that he was to be on that quest with Percy Jackson, who happened to be at Camp Half-Blood that day for the first time a year.

Ironic, but not unrealistic.

After all, the gods used mortals as entertainment when they grew bored.

And Percy Jackson was an asshole.

* * *

Jason was explaining a way to dodge an opponent on the off-chance that you were unarmed in a battle to a group of younger campers in the training arena. “You know how to use a sword,” Jason explained, “or a knife or a spear. But most of the time when you’re in the real world, you may not be carrying a weapon. The mist doesn’t cover everything and it’s definitely not going to cover you carrying a two-foot blade through your middle school.”

The group of campers snickered.

“Or maybe when you’re in battle, your weapon gets tossed away and you can’t reach it. This doesn’t mean you’re hopeless. You guys know the phrase ‘a soldier is only as good as his weapon?’”

The kids nodded.

“Well, that phrase isn’t true. A soldier is only as good as his mind. It doesn’t matter if someone has an AK-47 or a butter knife; if they don’t know how to use that weapon, they’re dead. If they do…?” Jason nodded. “You know the outcome. In this instance, your body is your weapon. If you know how to use it, you know how to defend yourself. Eric.”

A son of Ares stepped forward.

“Now, Eric here,” Jason said, addressing the other campers, “is mean with a spear. I know. I’ve seen him during Capture the Flag. Now say Eric is on the field and he’s just disarmed me. I can’t get to my sword.” He nodded to Eric. “Hit me.”

The boy’s usual sneer turned hesitant.

“It’s okay,” Jason assured him. “Hit me.”

Eric licked his lips, then nodded and watched Jason shift for a moment, gauging his best angle. Then he brought up his spear and threw a good hit that would’ve impaled Jason’s shoulder if the son of Jupiter hadn’t twisted out of the way. Throwing his body down and turning, Jason managed to dodge the spear and at the same time grabbed the wooden end of it with his left hand and pulled. Suddenly Jason had Eric’s spear and Eric was disarmed.

The son of Ares looked completely confused.

Jason smiled, nodded, and tossed his weapon back to him. “See?” He turned to the group. “That was just a demonstration. After lunch at the mess, I’ll teach you guys how to–”

Something shifted in the corner of his eye and instinctively Jason moved. He caught the blade of the dark sword in his bare palm rather than trying to dodge and used his left forearm to smack the flat of the blade out of the user’s hand. It clattered to the ground, but that didn’t stop his opponent. Whoever it was came at him with an uppercut and knocked the wind right out of him. Jason managed to dodge the punch that followed, twisting and bringing his elbow back. There was a hiss as he hit his target, but before Jason could step on the person’s foot, they disappeared into the shadows.

Disappeared into the shadows?

And suddenly his opponent was in front of him, emerging from a spontaneous cloud of darkness, and kicked him right in the chest. Jason fell to the ground with a grunt, tilting his chin up when the tip of a Stygian iron blade was shoved beneath it.

Nico grinned above him. “I thought you’d learned never to let your guard down.”

* * *

“How’s the Underworld?”

Nico shrugged as he un-buried his face from the midst of his bacon cheeseburger. “Better,” he said. They turned off Deer Park Ave. “With the Doors of Death closed, we have things under control again. We set up a bigger security area around the openings of Tartarus as well. No more demigods will slip through.”

Jason glanced at him when he said that, but Nico’s mood didn’t appear to change and so he picked a fry from the bag.

“How’s Camp?” Nico asked. He pulled a pickle from the middle of his cheeseburger and tossed it into one of the garbage cans next to a bus bench.

“Good,” Jason said. “I made head counselor.”

“Am I supposed to be surprised by that?”

They shared a smile.

“You’re liking it okay?”

Jason nodded. “I don’t feel as restrained as I did at Camp Jupiter. Don’t get me wrong, I love my legion and I would give my life for them–”

“But Camp Half-Blood doesn’t smother you, while you can still be a leader,” Nico finished.

Jason agreed. “Looks like you’ve been enjoying it, though.”

“What?”

“You haven’t been spending much time in the land down under,” Jason said, gesturing at Nico’s face. “You’re not as pale as you used to be.” Actually, Jason thought, and he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to really look at him, Nico was the very opposite. His olive skin looked healthy and his frame wasn’t skeletal anymore. In fact, with a broader chest and shoulders, he filled out his aviator jacket. His face was more angular too and he was at least two inches taller.

Puberty had hit the son of Hades like a wall.

“You’ve been spending time at Camp Jupiter,” Jason said, smiling.

Nico didn’t say anything. His eyes shifted.

The smile dissipated. “… Haven’t you?”

Nico looked up at the street signs. “Let’s take Parkdale,” he said quickly.

“Nico.”

Nico turned down the street.

“If you haven’t been at Camp Jupiter or the Underworld, then where have you been?” More importantly, how could he walk that fast?

“I can’t talk about it,” Nico said. He hunched his shoulders as if protecting himself from a blow and went down a side street. Jason hurried after him.

“Nico, the last time you went off somewhere on your own, you ended up too far in the Underworld and–”

“Don’t tell me what happened,” Nico growled. “I know what happened.”

“But you’re willing to risk that again?”

Nico stopped abruptly so that Jason nearly carened with him and turned, looking up into his face. Jason would never get used to his eyes. “I know what I’m doing, Grace,” he hissed. “ _Do you?_ ” It sounded like a threat and for a second Jason thought Nico knew.

But the anger soon left the son of Hades’ face and he softly apologized. Jason returned the apology.

They walked in silence.

At least, until a vibration went off in Jason’s pocket.

Nico stared at him as he took it out. “Is that a phone?” he asked.

“No,” Jason shook his head, “it’s a droid. Literally.” He showed him the device. “Leo and Annabeth have been working on them. They’re not perfect yet, but they allow us to text back and forth when there’s something going on or one of us needs help.”

“And?”

“Annabeth needs our help.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for rape in this chapter.

It was cowardly and the worst part about it was that he knew it.

He knew it the moment the idea crossed his mind, knew it the moment he snuck out and past the harpies, knew it the moment he started the fire on the beach, knew it the moment he actually dared to pray to Zeus, knew it the moment he left camp without permission and wasn’t stopped by Mr. D.

You know an idea is terrible when Mr. D doesn’t bother to stop you.

And yet he did it.

It was cowardly and yet he did it, clutching the arms of his chair on the cheapest Delta Airline flight he could find: a six hour, forty-nine minute roundtrip that he wouldn’t be making round. With his nails digging into the padded material and face pale, he wondered briefly if maybe sacrificing the Minotaur’s horn wasn’t enough payment to fly into Zeus’ realm after the warning he received from his uncle five years ago. Maybe he should’ve done something more extreme like chopping off his left arm or even cutting out his tongue; Zeus would’ve enjoyed the latter choice. But the flight was already two hours in and they hadn’t hit any sort of air pocket or turbulence.

It was only when the woman beside him was beginning to look at him as if he were mentally incapacitated that Percy finally made himself move, deciding to watch a movie to keep his mind off things.

Like Jason’s lips.

His fingers stumbled over  _Inglorious Bastards_  on the touch screen in front of him.

He was over-reacting. He knew he was. But he couldn’t figure out  _why_. Why did Jason’s kiss bother him so much? Why had he panicked? At first he thought it was a sexuality thing, but when he pushed himself to think of men there wasn’t any intense feeling of self-loathing or disgust. There was just… Well, penises. So why was he running?

He pressed the picture for  _The Lovely Bones_ on the screen and the woman beside him finally seemed to come to the conclusion that he wasn't going to blow up the plane.

 _Who goes to California after someone kisses them?_  Percy growled at himself, pushing in the cheap, complimentary ear-buds and settling down as well as he could into his seat.  _Who_ does _that?_

“This is the story of how I died,” narrated the girl on the film.

“Preach,” Percy muttered.

* * *

By the time Mark Wahlburg began following Stanley Tucci into a cornfield, bat in hand, Percy started to drift off against the window, startled only briefly by the cool glass against his cheek. For once, he thought, eyes closing again, maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to get a nap in without some kind of vivid nightmare involving Tartarus or demigod visions of monsters dancing in his head.

But of course that couldn’t happen. That would’ve been  _fair_.

He heard the screams first. Children’s screams. Babies’ screams. High-pitched, shrieking, gurgling screams. He heard wet slaps, blades cutting through bodies. He heard crackling, felt flames licking his arms. And then he saw everything. He was in the middle of a market square, swarms of people dressed in ancient clothing running past him with tears in their eyes, scratches on their faces, blood on their feet. There was screaming, screaming, screaming but Percy couldn’t understand the language. He felt like he should, but the more he tried to listen the less it made sense. It was when he found someone he  _could_ understand that he suddenly wished he hadn’t.

There was a statue of a goddess Percy could only assume was Athena, grand marble columns surrounding her with stone steps leading up to an altar. The scene was almost fuzzy as if the film in a projector were skipping or catching fire or it was being propelled forward by bursts of emotion rather than manually turning the crank. There was a wail, shriller than the ones in the street, and when Percy squinted he could just make out the figure of a woman being thrown down on the stone floor in front of the altar by a man in armor. The man said something foul Percy would never repeat to anyone.

And then he tore off the woman’s clothes with a terrible  _rip_.

Bile pooled at the back of Percy’s throat, but before he could go to the woman’s rescue, the scene dissolved and he was left alone on a stone street. He was still outside, the night sky twinkling above him, but now all was silent. Eerily silent. Turning slowly and analyzing for any sign of attack, Percy had to stifle a startled yelp when he looked up to see the looming silhouette of the Trojan horse.  _The_ Trojan horse.

“It’s not real,” someone assured him.

Percy turned his head abruptly to catch the eye of a boy leaning against a metal banister across from him. It was then that he realized he was by some kind of beach area. But it wasn’t Montauk. In fact, it didn’t look familiar at all. Neither did the boy. “Not real?” he asked.

“It’s from the film,  _Troy_ , with Brad Pitt,” the boy said. “They put it up back in 2004.”

“Put it up… where? Where is this? How come you’re talking to me? This is a dream right?” He slapped himself.

The boy’s eyes smiled at the gesture. “Yes, this is a dream.” He gave a wide wave of his arm to the buildings across the water as well as those behind Percy. “You’re in Çanakkale.”

“What-na-what-leh?”

“Chaa-nak-kaa-leh,” the boy sounded out. “Turkey.”

Percy blinked. “Turkey. Like. The  _country_.”

“No, the Thanksgiving bird,” the boy said. “Yes, the country.”

“But.” Percy looked around. The streets were as silent as the graves they were probably built on. “Where is everyone?”

“This is a dream, remember? Anything can happen in a dream. Including the disappearance of tourists.”

“Who are you?” Percy asked, shaking his head. “What do you want from me? The only god I know to talk to us directly through dreams is Apollo and even he rarely does that because of the rules.”

“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. A god must abide by the rules.  _I_  don’t have to.”

“Are you … special?”

“I’m not a god.”

“Then how– oh. You’re immortal.”

“Yes.”

“Are you…?” Percy looked up at the Trojan Horse.

“An Achaean?” the boy asked. “No.” He climbed over the banister with surprising ease. In the spotlight over the horse, Percy could see him better. His skin was tanned as if he’d been spending time on the fishing boats Percy could see on the water and his face was strangely beautiful in that sense of timelessness he’d seen in the Hunters of Artemis and Calypso. As an immortal, Percy expected him to be dressed somewhat nicely, but surprisingly enough the boy looked identical to the Romans at Camp Jupiter attending University. “My name is unimportant. You know what is important?”

“You explaining what’s going on here?”

“What? No.” The guy pulled out what Percy swore was a mechanical rooster that somehow turned into a phone. “That Zeus remembers to record The Puppy Bowl for me.”

“Okay, okay, wait, no, hold up,” Percy said, waving his arms around. “I just nearly watched a woman get raped and now suddenly I’m on a beach with some dude who won’t tell me who he is or what is going on.  _What is going on?_ ”

“I didn’t mean for you to see Cassandra,” the boy said, texting away.

“Who?”

“The woman. I’m not used to sending demigods visions. Sometimes my own thoughts get caught in the crossfire.”

“You…? You were  _thinking_ of that? That’s  _sick_. Why?”

“Why do Holocaust victims remember their tragedies?” the boy bit back.

At that, Percy knew he hit a cord. He stopped talking.

But the boy wasn’t done. He looked up at Percy, eyes serious. They were a strange color, neither blue nor gray, but somewhere in the middle like the line at which the sea and sky met in battle. The color of witness. “Why do victims of heartbreak seem to remember all the things they seemed to do wrong?”

Percy’s throat tightened.

“Why do cowards  _run?_ ”

“That–”

“You don’t know the answer do you?” The boy smiled, but it no longer seemed kind. “Well,  _I’ll_  tell you, Perseus. I won’t leave you at the altar.” He beckoned and for some reason Percy felt he was stepping toward his doom.  _Don’t be a coward_ , his brain argued.  _He’s just a kid, barely older than you._ But something else ran through his mind: which side of the war had Poseidon been on?

The boy ran the pads of his fingers along Percy’s cheek and under his chin. “Why do cowards run, Perseus?” he asked in a whisper. Something at the back of his mind noted that he said his name wrong, pronouncing it with a B rather than a P. Then the boy leaned in, lips brushing lips.

“ _Because they’re afraid_.”

* * *

“Sorry, folks,” came the captain’s booming voice over the speakers, jerking Percy awake. The red seatbelt light was on above him. “We’re going to have to ask you to stay in your seats for the next half-hour. We’ll be experiencing some turbulence.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for mention of rape.

Percy never went to Camp Jupiter.

He never intended to. It would've been too predictable and he would have been found easily, kept track of easily by Reyna who would then send the information back to Annabeth and then Jason. It wasn't that he hated Jason or Annabeth. That wasn't it at all.

He just wanted to be alone.

Completely alone.

_Why do cowards run?_ the blond guy had asked him.  _Because they're afraid_ .

Percy wondered if his dream was supposed to be a riddle, but usually riddles were clever. They weren't like jokes; they were rarely funny. But the blond guy's riddle, if that's what it was, was just... redundant.

Percy gave himself a gold star for using an SAT word.

Why do cowards run? Because they're afraid.

Well,  _duh._

Why did Percy eat the pizza? Because he was hungry.  _Wow, much philosophy._ But there was still something in the back of his mind telling him there was something more. There had been something creepy about Blond Guy, the way he'd almost kissed him. It wasn't like how it was with Calypso. There was something about the guy's energy. He was... fickle. Like the gods changing back and forth from their Greek and Roman selves except the guy was himself the entire time. One moment he looked like he wanted to curb-stomp Percy's face because of something he'd said and the next he'd almost kissed him. But then again, all the gods seemed to be like that on some level and Percy would admit that he  _did_ seem to have a knack for pissing them off. What could he say? He wasn't that into the be-quiet-and-behave thing.

Percy reached up and touched his lips as he walked over the dirt of the road in front of him. He could hear the seagulls already, could feel the pull of the ocean in his veins.  _Who was a blond Trojan?_ Percy wondered, letting his body take him where he needed to go while his mind lagged behind.  _Who was Cassandra?_ The name sounded familiar. Years of being at Camp Half-Blood and listening to mythology books (now considered history books technically) on tape and soon every Ancient Greek name started to sound familiar.  _The story with the thing and the thing and the monster and the lovers and the gods having sex and the pregnancy and the thing where it turned out to be a horse._ That's pretty much how all the Greek myths went.

Cassandra had been a princess, right? The Trojan King's daughter or whatever. Priam. He wracked his brain. Apollo had wanted to sleep with her, but she'd refused so he made her super crazy where she saw all these prophecies and stuff, but no one believed her. Wasn't there something on the History channel once about Odysseus and why his crew couldn't get home? Something about punishment because they didn't reprimand a dude who'd knocked over an Athena statue.

Wait.

There was an Athena statue when the girl was being raped. So who had been the guy? “He's a cleaning product,” Percy said, trying to think.

_Ajax._

Okay, so Cassandra was raped by Ajax who was a Greek. Cassandra was a Trojan princess. Blond Guy was a Trojan and was related to Cassandra. Blond Guy was immortal and asked Zeus to record the Puppy Bowl.

…

What.

Percy shook his head, heading uphill. The dirt road was turning to sand pretty quickly and the warm air on his skin felt like a welcoming embrace from the sea. The tall grass tickled his legs as he moved and suddenly Percy could hear the waves, could smell the earth and the salt. _This_ , he thought, _this is what I need. Not Camp Jupiter, not Camp Half-Blood_. This. He climbed the last few steps and smiled as his breath was taken away.

The private beach stretched on for miles in both directions, the blue water licking at its toes as the tide rolled in. It made Percy's skin itch the way nothing else could. The seagulls overhead cawed at each other in their sharp, screeching language, and the sun shined down gently as it made its way across the sky. Percy squinted at it for a moment, vaguely aware that he might just be being watched, but at this point it didn't really matter. The gods always watched. Let them. As long as the mortals couldn't see.

Speaking of mortals.

Percy turned his eyes away from the sun and the beach and looked toward the house Rachel had been so awesome to lend him. It looked nothing like how he'd expected it to. When Rachel had said “beach house” he'd thought she meant something like the cabin he and his mom went to when they visited Montauk, with the weathered wooden doors and the creaky bunk beds that smelled like must. Percy had been excited about it. He _liked_ the small weathered cabins, how they were products of years of ocean ware and peoples' memories.

Rachel's beach house was nothing like the tiny cabins in Montauk. If Annabeth were there, she would've gone into detail about the structure and the use of the white rock. But instead Percy was there and so the best he could describe it was that it looked like rectangles ontop of each other with windows. It didn't have a deck like the cabins in Montauk either. It didn't even have a porch. It had an _entrance_ with the sand changing to a kind of patio tile as he moved toward the front door. Percy actually didn't know why there was a door in the first place; the windows were so high on the sides that if someone needed to get in bad enough, all they had to do was throw a rock. Even the wood of the door was a deep, rich color and while it should've been weathered by the salt of the ocean, it was in perfect condition. Percy pulled the key out of his back pocket as he came up the steps, suddenly feeling very out of place with his clearance-rack khaki shorts and blue t-shirt. _Don't_ , said a confident voice in his head. _Money isn't everything, remember? Character is._ He pushed the key into the hole, turned it. _You're not just some white, welfare kid from Manhattan._ He opened the door. _I'm proud of you._

Percy tripped over the threshold the minute he realized the voice in his head was Jason's, landing right on his shoulder with a loud _whump._ The hardwood floors that covered the inside didn't really break his fall too well, but at least the help that Rachel had said came every Saturday to clean and restock the emenities wasn't there to have seen the episode play out. Percy wanted to hold onto the little bit of dignity he had left, thanks.

He got up and rubbed his shoulder, taking his first look around the place. Everything was laid out in an open concept with sleek, white furniture and a kitchen that looked like it'd leaped out of a realtor's magazine. Actually, the whole place was like that. Percy did a slow spin and let out a low, drawn out whistle. He didn't know much about interior decorating or houses, but this was definitely modern. The furniture was white as if the very idea of them getting dirty was laughable. There was a flat screen TV at least six feet wide implanted into the wall with a gas fireplace beneath it. The kitchen was huge with an island and everything, steel appliances, double-doored refridgerator. The dining table was misted glass and was long enough to hold a business conference of twelve people.

Percy continued walking toward the back of the house, glancing inside of a smaller bedroom that would probably be Rachel's. It was completely empty save for a bed, dresser, and mirror, and yet it still looked like some kind of hotel room. The master bedroom was something else entirely, facing the ocean. The bed was large and there was a walk-in closet the size of Percy's bedroom in his mom's apartment. _Gods_ , his mom. Percy turned and sat down on the edge of the bed, staring out at the sea as the sun began to dip further beneath the clouds. She would've loved a house like this. Percy always wanted to give her one like this. His father probably did too. His mom deserved the world. He cracked a smile at the thought of her. He knew she wouldn't accept the house even if he were rich enough to get one for her. She took care of herself, refused anyone else's help save for the little things.

“Like mother like son, I guess,” Percy said. He kicked off his shoes, finding a little bit of satisfaction in the dirt they sent flying across the clean floor. He still didn't feel much like doing anything but sleeping, but there was still one thing he could do that would at least create some kind of heartbreak therapy. “Are you really the son of Poseidon?” Nico had asked him years ago, eyes wide with excitement. “Can you surf really well, then?”

He eyed the unused surfboards hanging on the wall, glittering in the sun's rays through the window.

“Let's find out,” Percy said. And for the first time in weeks, he grinned.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for violence and horror in this chapter! Percy's nightmares get a little gross.

Maybe seclusion, when you're depressed, is a bad thing.

Alone in his cabin at Camp Half-Blood, Percy had done nothing but sleep, have nightmares, and yes, he'll admit, cry. He felt stupid for wanting to be alone, for moping like a pathetic teenager in a Hollywood film. And yet he couldn't bring himself to do anything, to interact with anyone. It was a feeling of _Annabeth loves someone else and not you_ , a feeling of _you'll never find anyone like her again_. They were lies, he knew that, but after a break-up you believe them. He saw her face in every dream, in every nightmare.

In one, they were back in Tartarus with their skin blistering from the heat. The crying goddess would be there, weeping, weeping, weeping, but just when Percy would begin to make her choke on her tears, she would turn into Piper. The image was followed by this sense of euphoric  _joy_ , this bloodlust that woke Percy up screaming.

In another, he'd be married to Annabeth with two kids running around outside in the yard. It always started out like that, always started out happy. Then something would happen. You know how a scene in a movie might not change, but the music shifts to something creepy? That's what it was like. Something would happen that would turn the dream on its head and suddenly Annabeth would be gone and Percy would be grabbing a knife and sauntering towards the kids. They'd always be laughing and they'd look up at Percy with these bright, happy faces and they'd have Annabeth's blond hair and her grey eyes and then Percy would stab them and stab them and  _stab them_ . 

Percy always threw up after that one.

Yet maybe, out there, seclusion wasn't a bad thing. The nightmares hadn't come to him for weeks. For the first time since Tartarus, Percy could sleep soundly and the only dreams he did have were of a pair of gently calloused hands touching him, of a soft smile with a scar on the top lip. He could never remember much of those.

Percy went out into the waves every day since he first attempted surfing, keeping his focus on something productive he could take an interest in. And to answer Nico's question: no, he couldn't surf well. He couldn't surf well at  _all,_ actually. He could keep the water steady while he stood up on the board, but balance was still a necessary thing to have and, well, controlling gravity was not one of his powers. But he kept practicing, allowing himself to be distracted by the effort, to not think of Annabeth. When he did think about her, he pushed himself to think only positive things.

_She's not your girlfriend anymore, but she's still your friend._

_You're only 17, you'll find someone else._

_This isn't the end of the world._

_Things will get better._

It's hard to believe positive things when you feel like you're on the brink of a breakdown half the time, but he kept thinking them.

He'd been out at Rachel's beach house for nearly a month when he met Blond Guy again. It had been a good day and he had actually managed to ride a small wave without falling, so he treated himself to a small pizza using Rachel's credit card. He kept it in an envelope on the top shelf of the upper cupboard furthest to the right; he didn't like using Rachel's money even though she said it was okay and he  _definitely_ didn't like using credit. There are two things a poor kid learns when they first come into the world and it is that a) you do not pick up the phone if there's no caller ID because it will be a tax collector and b) credit cards are more dangerous than the devil.

But it had been a good day nonetheless and so he sat pretzel-style on the couch with a large, cheesy piece of stuffed crust pizza in his hand, watching a Hallmark movie on the flat-screen TV. He usually didn't watch such cliché things, but there had been a sad scene with a dog the minute he turned it on so now he needed to know what was going to happen. The dog ended up belonging to the male lead who was having the inside of his apartment remodeled by this really cute chick, the same chick who happened to save the dog from nearly getting run over in the scene Percy had first gotten a glimpse of. The concept of the movie was ridiculous, but the chemistry between the two actors was extremely good and had Percy missing his mouth with his pizza a few times. They finally had their first kiss, but for some reason, the female lead (Jessica) was pulling away with a distraught face.

“I'm sorry,” she told the guy. “I can't.”

“Why not?” the guy, Brian, asked. He reached up to touch her face, but she turned her head away before he could.

“Because your eyebrows are too big,” Percy whispered to himself. It was the only available reason he could think of.

However, Jessica replied with, “I'm not ready for this yet.” She looked up at him, eyes shiny. “I'm... I'm still in love with my ex.”

“No,” Percy whispered, sinking into the couch.

“Oh,” Brian said slowly and the emotion that crossed his face was so real Percy's heart ached for him.

“I'm sorry,” Jessica said. Tears came to her eyes. “I want this. I want you. But I just... I can't.”

“It's okay,” Brian said softly. He reached out and took her hands. “I'll wait for you.”

The reason Percy was tearing up was totally because stuffed crust pizza was the last miracle performed by Jesus before he assented to Heaven and was in no way related to the film.

“You know,” said the blond guy next to him, eating a piece of pepperoni. “They kind of remind me of you and Jason.”

At that, Percy snorted, amused, and wiped his face. “Please, my eyes are a lot greener than th _AT!_ ” He threw himself away from the couch as far as possible, grabbing Riptide from his pocket and brandishing it in front of him. “ _How did you get in here!?_ ”

Blond Guy looked at him like he was crazy, sucking on the tips of his fingers. “Immortal remember? I can air travel like the gods can.”

“Who are you? And why the heck do you keep following me?”

“I don't know what you mean by 'keep following' you,” BG said, sounding offended. “I've only seen you once. Unless you've been thinking about me.” He batted his eyelashes.

Percy scowled. “Who  _are_ you?”

“I thought you were supposed to be smarter than you look.” BG stood up. He was wearing something completely different from before. While in Percy's dream he'd been dressed like a University student, now he looked like a son of Aphrodite with pink skinny jeans and a white sweater with the sleeves rolled up. Percy was pretty sure it belonged in the Juniors' section of Forever 21. “I am Ganymede, cup-bearer of Zeus.”

“And when I'm out buying wine for the lord of the skies, I always buckle up,” Percy said, frowning at the memory. It explained why Ganymede's voice sounded so familiar now; it was the overvoice in the chariot of damnation.

Ganymede made a face. “Not exactly the best way to be remembered, but yes.”

“I don't need any alcohol.”

“That's not what I'm here for.”

“Then why are you here?”

Ganymede spread his arms out in front of him. “You haven't spoken to Jason since he kissed you.”

Percy blanched. “Oh my gods, you're here because Zeus is  _mad_ at me?” This was just what he needed.

Ganymede pinched the bridge of his nose. “ _No_ . I'm here because of the Romans and their stupidity. I'm considered the god of same-sex love.”

“I thought you said you weren't a god?”

“I'm not, but in terms of abilities and responsibilities, I'm a god by technicality.”

“So you're hear because you think I'm gay?”

Ganymede made a noise like a dying cat. “ _No_ .”

“Then why--?”

“ _Same-sex love_ . Jason is a man. You are a man.”

“Oh.”

“I expected you to understand what I said in the dream, but you've been splashing around in the water this entire time.”

Percy scowled. “Well, maybe if the gods didn't speak in some obscure lingo--”

“You're afraid of what you're feeling,” Ganymede said, looking at him pointedly. “That's why you ran.  _Cowards run because they're afraid_ .”

“I don't  _feel_ anything,” Percy spat. “Jason's a friend, that's  _all_ . I left because I can't  _deal_ with something like that right now. I just got out of a relationship, okay? A really long relationship.”

“Three months isn't--”

“ _Shut up_ . The point is, I'm not into Jason. I'm not running away from what I feel. Jason's a great guy, okay, but he's not... for me. He's the wrong kind of blond.”

“Or maybe he's just a different kind of blond.”

Percy gave him an exasperated look. “I'm into girls. And even if I were into guys, which I'm not, at least not  _really_ , Jason's like a brother to me. It'd be weird.”

“Then why did you kiss him back?”

Percy opened his mouth to reply, closed it, opened it again. “Because... Because... It felt... right. At the time.”

“It wasn't because you like him?”

“ _No._ Would you--  _Gods_ , stop pushing it. It's not going to happen.”

Ganymede shrugged. “Just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well, stop trying because I'm perfectly fine on my own.”

“You don't think sending an Iris-Message to your friends at Camp Half-Blood to let them know you're okay is a good idea?”

“I'm sure they're getting on just fine.”

Ganymede watched him for a moment and then let out a little sigh through his nose. “Just don't keep up this pity party for too long, Jackson,” he said and he started to shimmer. “There are people worrying about you.”

Percy averted his eyes as the immortal disappeared in a blinding flash of light. A minute later he looked back to the TV.

Jessica was standing outside of Brian's apartment as he opened the door. The actor's face lit up as he saw her. “You came back,” he said, voice soft.

She smiled up at him, face warm in the sepia lighting. “I came back,” Jessica agreed. They moved toward each other and shared a deep kiss as the camera slowly panned out and the orchestra started up.

Percy stared.

He turned off the TV.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for brief mention of suicide.  
> Also, that's just a total guess about what's going to happen in Blood of Olympus, idek;;

Percy didn't consider what he was doing to be a pity party. In all honesty, if that's what Ganymede considered it, he could go jump off Mount Ida. No, he considered it a recovery party. If Jason was right and this was a bout of depression he was going through, then Percy was determined to find a way out of it and if that meant being out of contact with his friends for a while, then so be it.

_There are people worrying about you_ .

They had no reason to worry. Percy had made it clear to Jason before he left that he was in no way suicidal; he'd been to the lowest part of the Underworld and wasn't exactly desperate to go back. And besides, Percy had done  _enough_ worrying about other people. It's what had nearly gotten the rest of the seven killed during the final battle with Gaea. 

In a game of “entertainment” with the giants, Percy had been given a device straight out of  _The Dark Knight_ while his friends were caught in a death trap. After handing him the little box, the giant with the green dreadlocks gave him a sneer and said that he would have to choose to kill Annabeth or Jason, Piper, Leo, Frank, and Hazel, or else they would  _all_ die. The real answer, of course, was not to choose at all, but Percy was too busy to watch Hollywood movies to know the real answer. If Frank hadn't helped him make the decision, five of his friends would be dead.

No, Percy was going to take a break from all that. If people worried, let them worry. He'd rather not contact them and come back healthy-headed than talk to them now and again with a head full of, well,  _kelp_ . So he stayed out at the beach house like he had originally planned. He practiced surfing. He helped sea animals get out of nets. He may have messed up one or two fishing boats on purpose. He forgave Annabeth a little bit at a time; he forgave  _himself_ a little bit at a time and wrote out an apology to her. He watched  _The Walking Dead_ for the first time. He spent an entire day on the sand listening to the waves.

He thought of Jason.

He thought of Jason  _a lot_ .

The dreams had become more vivid with each passing month at the beach house. He no longer woke up with only a passing memory of a scarred lip, but rather with whole details like the smell of sweat and Polo cologne and the ghost of a hand on his thigh. By the sixth month marker, he had to start washing the sheets regularly; the dreams had become as clear as demigod dreams. They'd start off normal enough where he'd be back at Camp Half-Blood and they'd just finished fighting off a monster, but then Jason would lean in a little too close and they'd kiss and it wasn't his fault if they ended up making out against Zeus' Fist because Jason has really nice arms, okay? Other times, the dreams would come right in the middle of something as if he were just waking up in the middle of second-base and his hands would be on Jason's ass – which,  _woah_ – and Jason's mouth would be on his neck and Percy would wake up grinding his hips into the mattress and gasping.

It was a little overwhelming.

The final straw came when Percy had been out in California for almost a year. 

He'd been woken up by another vivid dream, but this one had been different from the others. Jason hadn't been on his knees or begging for it; he hadn't pinned Percy against a wall and fingered him until he came. Instead, he'd been on his back with a soft smile, eyes half-lidded and head tilted back. Usually, at that point, Jason would ask Percy to fuck him, but instead they laced fingers and Jason looked up at him through his long lashes and whispered, “ _I love you_ .”

_You're afraid of what you're feeling._

Ganymede had been right. Those words had woken Percy with his first panic attack since he'd arrived and he still sat there in bed twenty minutes later, blankets pulled up to his naked chest, staring out at the dark ocean while the alarm clock beside him blinked 5:14 AM – 5:14 AM – 5:15 AM. He felt vulnerable, like his heart had been torn open and left for someone else to decide whether or not to close it. Except there was no one else out there besides him. Which meant only one thing.

“I have to go back,” Percy whispered.

The tide was late that morning.

 


	16. Chapter 16

The Big House was already filled with the camp's counselors by the time Jason and Nico got there, piled into the living room because the dining room table could no longer hold them all now that the camp had increased in size. Rachel Elizabeth Dare sat in one of the big arm chairs, her fiery red hair pulled back in a ponytail, chewing the inside of her cheek. Annabeth stood beside her, arms crossed in front of her chest. She looked pensive, frowning more than usual. Jason took it as a bad sign. Whatever Rachel had announced must've been concerning. Of course, they were all concerning: the world shall end, you all shall die, all that happy stuff.

Annabeth looked up when they came into the room and, if possible, her eyes appeared even more grave. However, Rachel tossed them a smile.

“There's our other two starlets!” she called. The other counselors turned their heads and Jason's stomach twisted. Their expressions were identical to Annabeth's.

“What's the 911?” Jason asked.

“Rachel had a prophecy a little bit ago by the basketball courts,” Annabeth said. “I think you two should hear it.” She gave an encouraging nod to Piper who sat a few feet away from her. The daughter of Aphrodite, Jason's ex-girlfriend, looked as beautiful as ever, but extremely nervous. Her face was pale and she was wringing her hands on the shaft of her dagger, _Katoptris_. Jason wanted to move forward and comfort her, but resigned himself. It wasn't his job anymore and besides, he knew as well as Annebeth that Piper could take care of herself.

Piper cleared her throat and pulled her shoulders back. “ _Sons of Earth, Sea, and Sky_ ,” she recited, throwing an uneasy glance at Jason, “ _You will go North where the Varangians lie. An oath kept secret must come to light, Lest Earth fall in its final fight_.”

Jason felt Nico shift beside him.

“ _A golden hoop is what you'll seek, Found by the tears of a lover's weep. The Vine will right what Eros wronged, And hearts will return where they've always belonged_ .”

_Lest Earth fall in its final fight._ Jason really hoped this wasn't leading to some big war again. He'd had enough of Gaea. Annabeth and Piper looked like they were thinking the same thing. After that ordeal, the Seven Half-bloods weren't answering anyone's calls. “What's a Varangian?” Jason asked. That was at least safe territory. At least, he thought so until Nico tensed at his side.

Annabeth seemed to notice it too. She glanced at the son of Hades warily. “It's what the Greeks called the Vikings.”

“You will go North where the Vikings lie?” Jason shook his head. “Are we supposed to find this golden hoop in some kind of exhibition?”

“I doubt it,” said a girl on one of the couches. She was squished between Clarisse and the new head of the Phobos cabin. Jason recognized her as Katie Gardner. “Hoops were an Ancient Greek tradition and the Romans adopted it. I don't know much about Vikings, but I don't think they really had time for pushing a hula-hoop around with a stick. Scandinavia has some pretty bad winters.”

“Besides,” added Connor Stoll from the other side of the room. Or was it Travis? Jason could never tell. “ _Found by the tears of a lover's weep_ . Sounds to me like you guys'll look for it, but it'll probably be found by accident.”

“Probably when you no longer need it,” Travis said with a grin.

“My life,” Connor snorted.

“ _The Vine will right what Eros wronged_ ,” Piper recited. She looked over at Katie. “Would that be your mom?”

Katie shook her head. “Demeter's the goddess of Agriculture. If anything, she'd be referred to with the cornucopia or bread.”

“Or Frosted Wheat,” Clarisse said. “I hate that stuff.”

“Wait,” Jason said. Heads turned to him. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves. North is a pretty general direction, we don't exactly have a destination to look--”

“Toronto,” Nico said. 

Jason tossed a glance at him. The son of Hades was staring at the floor, sweat pooling in the dip of his collar bone. “What?” 

“We'd look in Toronto,” Nico repeated.

Jason frowned, skeptical, but nodded when Nico looked up at him. Sometimes you don't question the answers of Nico Di Angelo. “Alright. Toronto. But the prophecy said  _sons of Earth, Sea, and Sky_ . Obviously that refers to me and Nico, but unless Tyson's here, I don't understand...” He trailed off as a figure on Annabeth's other side moved forward. His skin was darker, hair longer, and shoulders bigger, but Jason would recognize those green eyes anywhere.

“I think it would refer to me too,” Percy said. “Unless the boy my mom's pregnant with isn't actually mortal.” A few demigods chuckled, but Jason didn't laugh. They stared at each other until Percy said softly, “Hey.”

Jason looked away, cracking the knuckles of his left hand against his thigh. “So we'll head to Toronto looking for a golden hoop. What do we use for transport?”

“Well, Toronto is right near the coast,” Percy said, scratching his arm awkwardly. “And we're right on the Sound. I figure maybe we could use the Argo II. That is, if it's alright with Leo?” His eyes flickered over to where the son of Hephaestus was lounging on a horribly colored, leopard-print loveseat, tinkering with a piece of metal. “It might be a better choice since it can take to the sky too. In case we need a quick escape.”

Leo gave him a suspicious look, glancing between him and Jason. “You guys look like you're five seconds from killing each other and you want me to lend you a WMD?”

“We're not going to kill each other,” Jason grunted. Correction:  _Jason_ was going to kill  _Percy_ . “Besides, Percy's right. It would be faster to get there by sea, but since we'll be going into Canada where Poseidon doesn't have control of the waters, there might be a chance we get attacked. It'd be better to go by water until we get to the border and then go by air.”

Leo squinted, his elf-like features pinching into an I-Really-Want-To-Tell-You-No face. Finally, he opened his toolbelt and grudgingly pulled out a set of keys. “You break her,” he added threateningly, “and you are  _dead_ to me.” He tossed the keys to Jason, but Nico caught them.

“We'll prepare tonight,” Nico said. “Head out in the morning.”

Annabeth nodded the affirmative and the other counselors stood to leave, muttering about food, TV shows, and possible warfare. You know, typical demigod conversation.

“Maybe this isn't even that big of a deal,” Leo said on his way out, nudging Jason with a grin. “Maybe the gods just need technical support. Make a better vine than Eros or something.”

Jason forced a smile. “Maybe.”

“See you at the Marsh of the Mallows?”

The smile turned a little more genuine. “Yeah.”

They bumped fists and Jason watched him leave before turning back and catching Percy's eye. His smile disappeared instantly. Maybe he was being a little childish. After all, hadn't he wanted to see Percy more than anything? Didn't he want to be sure that Percy was okay? That he was still alive?

_Yeah_ , Jason thought,  _but not after a year of not knowing._ _Not after a year of what ifs_ . Percy hadn't contacted him at all the whole time. Not once. Not one Iris Message, not one text message, not one letter delivered by owl. Not one little “I'm okay.” Not one “I'm safe.” Not even an “I don't like you that way” just to make Jason stop pining. No one had even  _heard_ from him. Reyna hadn't heard, Annabeth hadn't heard. No one even knew where he  _was_ . And yet Percy had the audacity– No, not the audacity. Percy had the  _balls_ to pop up like a piece of burnt toast and the only thing he has to say is “Hey”?  _Hey?_ Jason had a right to be angry. 

He turned, brushing his fingers across Nico's arm at the son of Hades' concerned look, and left. 

He was  _going_ to be angry.

 


	17. Chapter 17

_Talk to him_ , said the voice in his head. It'd been pestering him all evening.  _What are you waiting for? Just talk to him!_

Jason glanced up and around the fire as Leo shoved five marshmallows onto his stick, spotting Percy sitting next to Annabeth and Piper a few feet away. They must've had spoken recently because Annabeth looked at ease, tucking Piper's hair behind her ear and smiling, and Percy didn't look like he was going to throw up. His hair had been cut in the few hours between the meeting and dinner, cropped short and a little uneven around the bangs. It made Jason think of Piper and when Percy caught his eye, he felt himself twitch in his jeans.

He looked away, swallowing.

_Talk to him_ , the voice in his head whispered.

_Shut up_ , Jason growled.

His heart had been heavy since that afternoon in the Big House. If it wasn't enough that the world was apparently, once again, in mortal danger then Percy had to abruptly appear without any warning after disappearing off the face of the planet for 11 months. He'd been angry packing his things for the quest in Cabin 1, had been angry while shoveling potatoes into his mouth during dinner, had been angry when he took his seat next to Leo for the bonfire, and he was determined the stay that way.

“I understand if you don't want to talk about it,” Leo said, handing him his roasting stick. There was hardly any room to hold it, it was filled with so many marshmallows, but Jason was too busy sending Leo panicked brainwaves to notice: Nico was sitting only two logs behind them and although he was talking with Hestia, he'd be able to hear what they were saying without even having to try.

“Leo,” Jason warned.

“But it's really unhealthy if you don't--”

“ _Leo_ \--!”

“--take a healthy shit.”

“... What?”

“You look constipated, bro,” Leo said, poking at his cheek while Jason frowned at him. “If you need help or something, I've got a two-way street going on with the Stolls. Get some laxatives or something unless you want to go the legal route with the Apollo cabin and get some Imodium from Duan Reade's.”

“I'm not,” Jason coughed on a soft laugh, glancing back at Nico to make sure he wasn't listening. The son of Hades had taken off his jacket and was giving it to Katie Gardner, who was shivering despite the fire. She smiled at him and he smiled back before going back to his conversation with Hestia. “I'm not constipated, but thank you for caring.”

“Someone has to care for your anal health besides Percy,” Leo said with a shrug.

Jason looked up so fast he felt his neck strain.

Leo snorted. “You thought I wouldn't notice that my best friend's got a little bi phase going on? Not that it's a problem if it's not a phase. I mean, it's been a  _year_ and the way you looked at the guy when you saw him in the room was like you got punched in the gut.”

“Leo,” Jason said in a hushed voice, flashing his eyes at Nico. “You've got to be quiet.”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “You think anyone here would care if they found out you like--”

“ _Leo_ .”

“Annabeth and Piper are gay, Jason,” Leo whispered back. “Or bi or whatever. No one has a problem with it. You don't have to act like it's a big deal.”

“It  _is_ a big deal,” Jason hissed. “Nico doesn't know.”

Leo snorted. “Why would it matter if Boo Radley found out?” His face shifted then like he couldn't decide whether to be impressed or disturbed. “Holy Hephaestus, you're into polyamory.”

“What?  _No._ He just... can't know.”

Leo squinted at him and Jason could practically  _feel_ the wheels turning in the son of Hephaestus' head. He looked in quick glances from Percy to Nico to Jason to Percy to Nico to Percy to Nico to Jason to Percy to Jason. “Love triangle,” he finally whispered.

Jason felt his face heat. He'd promised Nico he wouldn't tell anyone. “Exactly. So look, you can't talk about this in front of him. If he finds out I have a thing for Percy... Well, it'd be kind of against the bro code.”

“And the rules of feminism,” Leo agreed.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just... Wait.” He gave Jason a weird look. “He likes  _Percy?_ ”

“Well...  _did_ like. He said he was getting over him.”

“Wait, but I thought... He doesn't like  _you_ ?”

“No.”

“He likes Percy.”

“Yes.”

“Ew, gods,  _why_ ? He's not even that funny.”

“Leo,” Jason reminded him, “I like him too.”

“Well, yeah, but at least that makes sense.”

Jason nearly shoved him off the log.

“Seriously though,” Leo said, fixing his shirt. “Jackson's not even Nico's type. Nico's skinny and enjoys long walks through the graveyard and Percy's hot tempered with terrible fashion sense. You're perfect for each other.”

“I'm going to shock you.”

“I've seen your junk before, it's not that shocking.”

“ _Gods_ , Leo!”

“ _Okay_ , okay, okay. I won't let it slip that you've got a thing for tall, dark, and deep throat,” Jason groaned and put his head in his hands, “for the sake of Jack Skellington's feelings. Okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“No problemo. But now I have a question for you.”

“What?”

“If you like him, why aren't you talking to him? He keeps glancing over here.”

Jason tensed. “He does? How does he look?”

“Like he's either going to fart or cry. Seriously, man, what's the deal?”

Jason licked his lips and put his marshmallows over the fire. “You know how he disappeared a year ago?”

“The night after his birthday, yeah,” Leo said. “Did he tell you he killed someone or something? I  _knew_ Tartarus messed him up.”

“No. I kissed him that night.”

Leo did a double-take. “You what?”

“I kissed him,” Jason whispered again.

“... So he disappeared for a year?”

Jason shrugged and for a few minutes it was silent save for the Apollo kids picking up a Maroon 5 song in Accapella.

“Wow,” Leo finally said.

“I know.”

“What a faggot.”

“ _Leo!_ ”

“ _Sorry_ , but Holy Hera, a year because someone  _kissed_ you? Do you know what I would do if someone kissed me? I'd write about it for ten pages in my diary.”

“You have a diary?”

“ _No_ , but I would if someone  _kissed me_ . Like, okay, I would understand if he ignored you for a week or something, but a year? That takes some serious dedication.”

Jason gave a small shrug, suddenly feeling a little more than dejected. Leo was right. If Percy had felt bad about rejecting him, he would've only been gone more maybe a week. A year? “Maybe he's straight.”

“He's from New York City; I don't think he'd pull a No Homo like that even if he  _were_ straight. Which he's not.”

“How do you know?”

“Why would he be looking at you if he were? Trust me on this.”

Jason gave him a wounded look. “Why else would he be gone for a year?”

“Well, he'd just gotten out a relationship, right? He and Annabeth had an Edward and Bella thing going on. Except Percy shows emotions and Annabeth has a personality. I just mean that they were too...  _connected_ , you know? It wasn't healthy. You kissed him, when, like, the  _day_ he finally emerged from his cabin? You try to put a fish immediately into a new tank, bro, the fish is gonna die. You gotta wait a while. Let it adjust.”

“Percy's the fish.”

“Percy's the Nemo, yeah. It's been a year. He'd adapted. Now he wants to dirty the heck out of your filter.”

“Leo, I swear to--”

“Shh. Look. The only way you can be sure of anything is to talk to him, right? So talk to the guy.”

Jason's marshmallows were catching fire and he quickly blew them out, pulling off the top one to give to Leo. He liked them charred. “I'm just... I'm scared.”

“You'll never know if you don't try,” Leo said with a shrug. He stuffed the marshmallow into his mouth.

Jason glanced back across the fire at Percy. He had his chin in his palm, listening intently to Piper's brother, Mitchell, who was speaking with the same graceful waves of his hands that Piper often made when she was telling a story. Percy's lips were parted, jaw relaxed, and eyes bright in wonder. Occasionally, the sides of his mouth twitched until finally Mitchell grinned, apparently finishing his tale, and Percy broke out into free, unrestrained laughter. The sound made Jason's stomach churn.  _Gods_ , he'd missed him.

“Do you want some water?” Leo asked, breaking him out of his reverie. “You look a little thirsty.”

“Shut up.”

_Talk to him._

_Shut up._

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

The more Percy watched Jason at the camp fire, the more he felt like he was going to throw up because, of course, Jason would've moved on. No one waits around for a year after one dumb kiss. Hades, Percy didn't even realize his own emotions until a few weeks ago and he was _still_ struggling with them.

“Men in porn don't turn you on,” Mitchell had said, closing the door to the Aphrodite cabin behind them once establishing that no one else was in the room. He didn't mean to start talking to Mitchell about Jason, but the son of Aphrodite had been on the porch when Piper was cutting his hair and, well, Percy would take whatever help he could get. Who better to ask about romance than the children of the goddess of love anyway?  
Percy glanced around at the pastel-colored walls and bunk-beds. The air smelled like a mix of lilacs and expensive women's perfume. “No.”

“Well, what kinds have you watched?”

Percy frowned. “Straight. Gay.” His neck reddened. “Bisexual three-ways.”

The son of Aphrodite cleared off what Percy assumed was his bunk, putting Vogue magazines and a Shakespeare book into a pile and sliding it under his bed. “And what did the actors look like?”

He didn't understand the question. Licked his lips. “Like … humans?”

Mitchell looked at him like he was stupid before sitting on the bed and pulling out a sleek, silver laptop from his trunk. Percy stared at it.

“I thought you weren't allowed to have technology within Camp walls?” he said. “The signal attracts monsters.”

“Can monsters get into Camp without being summoned by a camper?” Mitchell asked, not looking up from the screen.

“No.”

“Then shut up and sit down.”

Percy sat down.

After a few clicks and some typing, Mitchell slid the laptop over onto both of their thighs. “Alright. Here. This is Jake Bass.”

Percy tilted the laptop's screen back a little to get a better look. The guy had dark hair and a lotus flower tattooed on the side of his neck. “Why are there so many gifs of him coming?”

“His 'O' face is pretty popular.” Mitchell scrolled down slowly. “What do you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you attracted to him?”

Percy looked at the guy again. Shrugged. “He's attractive.”

“But are you  _attracted to him_ ?”

“I don't think so.”

“Alright. What about him?”

The guy Mitchell pulled up was a lot more muscular and had a tattoo across his stomach. Percy frowned. “Reminds me of Ares.”

“So that's a no?”

“No.”

“What about him?”

“No.”

“Him?”

“No.”

“ _Him?_ ”

Percy blushed. “No.”

“Alright.” Mitchell closed the laptop. “How about this? A building is on fire and a vagina and a penis are trapped inside. You can only save one. Which do you save?”

Percy made a face. “Neither. Why would I save someone's disembodied genitals?”

Mitchell stared at him and then huffed through his nose. “Alright, so you're just attracted to Jason,” he decided, then frowned when Percy chewed the side of his lip. “ _Aren't_ you?”

“ _I don't know_ ,” Percy admitted. “I mean, I've been having these dreams, like... you know.  _Sex_ dreams. A  _lot_ . So I thought that maybe that meant something?”

“Sex dreams about the same sex are common, Percy. They don't make you gay.”

“They don't?”

“No. Does having nightmares mean you like horror movies?”

He had a point. “So how do I know if I like him then?”

Mitchell studied him for a long time, then shifted his weight on the bed and pulled his laptop aside. “I'm gonna do something,” he said. “But you can't tell anyone, okay? I swear it's not a bad touch thing.”

“Okay.”

He shifted a little closer. “Promise you won't freak out.”

Percy frowned. What was he going to do? “I promise.”

Mitchell placed his hand on Percy's knee and although he'd said 'it's not a bad touch thing,' Percy found himself staring holes into it. The son of Aphrodite leaned closer. Percy could count the freckles on his face, could see the small places where his hair was out of place. As he moved even closer, eyes half-closed and lips only an inch away, the little hairs on the back of his neck stood up on edge. 

But just as Percy was about to back up and laugh it off, Mitchell's face started to change and Percy frowned, staring. It was the smallest of shifts, but somehow Mitchell didn't look like himself anymore. His eyelashes were longer, his lower lip thinner, his cheekbones higher. For a moment, he looked like Annabeth and Percy's heart stuttered, but then he realized the eyes weren't gray and the nose was slightly curved. A Roman nose. Percy almost leaned forward, swallowing  _hard_ when Mitchell backed off. He was silently grateful.

“You can do what your mom does,” Percy said, a little breathless.

“It's not self-controlled,” Mitchell said. “When I go to kiss someone, I change to fit their heart's desire.”

“That... sucks.”

“I don't kiss many people,” Mitchell said with a shrug, then gave Percy a curious look. “Who'd you see?”

Percy stared at the floor, then glanced at Mitchell.

Mitchell smiled. “Looks like you've got your answer.”

Except having the answer didn't mean having the solution. Percy officially knew now that even if his sexuality was a little wonky (“fluid” Mitch had called it), he liked Jason. But Jason seemed to have his eye on someone else. Percy saw them come into the meeting together, watched Jason caress his arm as he walked out, and now, during the camp fire, he was the only one Jason couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of. Percy knew that he shouldn't think of himself as better than someone else because his mom's X-Files DVDs clearly stated that beauty was in the eye of the beholder (with terrifying pig-people for emphasis), but still. Some childish part of him couldn't help but think that he might be a little bit better of a choice than Nico.

_Nico probably doesn't run from a kiss_ , the voice in Percy's head sneered. He watched as Jason hissed something at Leo and then give a quick glance behind him at Nico who was speaking to Hestia.  _Nico pays attention to lonely goddesses_ .  _Nico gives his jackets to cold girls_ .  _Nico's actually kind of cute when he smiles_ . Percy pierced the tip of his stick with a marshmallow.  _Why would the head of Camp Jupiter wait for a sad little teenage boy? Annabeth didn't wait and she was_ seeing  _you. You shouldn't have come back._ Percy stared at the fire and suddenly it felt like he was back in Tartarus.

His skin flushed, breath quickening. He couldn't get enough air.

_You shouldn't have come back at_ a--

“One time when I was seven, my sisters and I went to this place called  _Lugia's_ in Upstate New York,” Mitchell said suddenly, making Percy jump. He hadn't even noticed he'd sat down next to him. “My dad took us because he felt bad for going on a business trip during Maria, my younger sister's, birthday. It took a while to get there, almost two hours, and at first we thought he was taking us to the Niagara Falls, which,  _boring_ , because when you're a Canadian kid living by the border, it's the only thing anyone ever talks about and  _wow_ water falling over a cliff, how exciting. But no, we went to this little town called Ogden to this ice cream place called  _Lugia's_ . Have you ever heard of  _Lugia's_ ?”

Percy shook his head dumbly. This was the most he'd ever heard Mitchell talk.

“It's an ice cream place,” Mitchell said again, waving his hands, “and when you go there you have to order a small if you want a large because their serving portions are  _huge_ . It's the greatest thing in the world. But anyway, we didn't know that back then, so we insisted that dad buy us larges because we were little kids, okay, baby cones weren't going to cut it. Calories meant nothing and happiness meant everything. So we got larges and when they first came out, it was almost like seeing your parents naked for the first time. It was traumatizing.” Percy's mouth twitched in a smile. “But while my sisters got bowls to stick their ice cream in, I insisted on using a cone because as this skinny little white kid with limp wrists in a Hello Kitty t-shirt, I was  _man_ of the family.” Percy smiled wider. “And it was probably the worst decision of my life because not five minutes later when we were walking to the car, my ice cream fell. Except it didn't fall on the ground. It fell  _onto my face_ .” He mimicked the motion with his arm and made a horrified expression.

Percy didn't expect to laugh, but the sound bubbled out of him before he could stop it, making Mitchell grin. It wasn't until later when Percy had finished packing for the quest (he didn't actually have to pack at all – he'd never unpacked to begin with) that he realized Mitch's story had pulled him out of a panic attack.

Huh.

 


	19. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update and for this next update being so small! I haven't been in the mood to continue lately, but figured I couldn't leave you guys hanging for too long.
> 
> Also, if you're wondering how Mitchell can know porn stars and still be asexual, he watches gay pornography for the aesthetic of it, which I do even as a sexual person (Austin Woolf is an absolute cutie and Jake Bass is beautiful).

“Are mortals always this stubborn? I don't remember being this stubborn.” Ganymede lifted his legs so he could lean the tablet against his thighs. Even the silk bedsheets couldn't ease his distemperament. “I've been watching these kids on Hephflix for the past two hours and they still haven't spoken to each other. Did you know your son keeps asking Nico Di Angelofor directions even though they're at sea? _Nico Di Angelo_.”

He heard Zeus sigh from the bathroom. “Which one is that again?”

“Hades' son.”

“I thought that was Hazel.”

“Hazel's a girl, Jove.”

“Mm.”

He heard Zeus resume brushing his teeth and took it as a go-ahead to keep talking. “They're almost to Toronto. I'm worried this whole plan will turn out to be a a dud. Maybe I chose the wrong heroes.” He groaned and tossed his head back against the pillows. “Why can't I be the god of  _lesbians_ ? They would've moved in with each other by now.”

Zeus emerged from the bathroom, towel around his waist and eyebrow raised. “I think you're overthinking this.” 

Ganymede tossed him a dirty look. “Like you're one to talk.” His face softened. “You took your Paxil tonight, right?”

“Mhm.”

“And Hera's out with the girls?”

“Mhm.”

Ganymede smiled and reached out for him, feeling his chest lighten as Zeus took his hands and climbed into the bed, towel drooping on his hips. “You trimmed your beard.”

“I did.” Zeus placed a chase kiss under his jaw.

“And you're wearing aftershave.”

“I am.” He placed an open-mouthed kiss on his neck.

Ganymede let out a series of happy sighs as Zeus went lower and lower down his neck to his chest, sucking hickeys in a deliberate pattern. And then his breath hitched. “What if the prophecy doesn't work because they don't talk to each other?”

Zeus groaned and pressed his forehead to Ganymede's chest. “ _Gan_ .”

“I'm not overthinking this! I gave Apollo 20 drachmas for that prophecy. It might not even come true!  _It didn't even rhyme that well!_ ”

“It rhymed  _fine_ .”

“But what if a real prophecy comes along and kicks mine into the gutter? What if the dreams I've been sending them aren't enough? What if Aphrodite wants Jason with someone else? What if she wants him with Mitchell? She can't have him, Zeus! I don't care if he's her son! I'm still trying to figure out a way for him to find out that Jake Mason is asexual too! What if she-- what if-- what-- oh-- oh  _hnn_ .”

“I told you,” Zeus told him with a soft smile. “You  _are_ overthinking.”

“Alright, fine, overthinking, just keep moving your hand.”

“Can do.”

 


	20. Chapter 20

 

Jason curled and uncurled his fingers around the steering wheel of the Argo II, wishing for once that the sea gave him the same sense of calm it gave Percy. The son of Poseidon had perched himself at the front of the ship and hadn't moved in the past seven hours. His expression was serene, the wind whipping his hair about his face and the afternoon sun making his skin glow.

Jason hoped his dumb face burned.

“Nico,” he asked, “are we still on-”

“For the last time, Jason, _I don't know_ ,” Nico growled from the lookout point. “Why don't you take my advice, which I've offered the last ten times, and ask Percy. Navigator. Son of Poseidon. God of the Seas.”

Jason winced. Nico was right. He was being childish.

He cleared his throat, feeling his sense of praetorship return to him, and straightened his back. “Percy!” Jason called, voice strong with authority. “Are we-?”

“We're on course,” Percy called back without so much as looking at him. He hadn't shifted his weight, hadn't even batted an eyelash. He just sat there watching the waves.

“Right,” Jason said tightly, curling his fingers again around the steering wheel. “Of course.” He wondered, off hand, if this was what Percy's father was like: aloof, unpredictable, irritably easy-going. Jason mentally checked himself. Neptune was a god. He shouldn't question a god's capabilities let alone their person. However, he could question their sons.

Their arrogant, dim-witted, obtuse,  _selfish-_

_“_ Jason, you're going to snap the wheel,” Nico hissed and Jason eased his grip.

He was losing it. And all for something as stupid as Percy Jackson. “Take the wheel,” he told Nico. “I need to get some water.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Would you tell me what's going on?”

Jason pulled his mouth away from the water bottle and nudged the fridge closed with his hip. “There's nothing to tell.” He avoided the pair of eyes staring holes into the side of his skull. “I told you to steer the ship.”

“I gave the wheel to Percy,” Nico said. He came forward, pressing his hand to the door of the fridge, boxing Jason in. “You know, like a _logical_ person would.”

“Nico--”

“Stop playing Big Brother.”

Jason's eyebrows pinched together and he quickly looked up to meet Nico's eyes, so brown they were almost black. He fought off a shiver. “What are you talking about?”

“I appreciate the relationship that's been forming between us since the whole Cupid incident, but you need to cut it out because you don't know what you're doing and you're going to compromise this entire mission because of your own ignorance.”

“ _Nico_ ,” Jason said again, “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about Percy,” Nico snarled. “You've been acting weird since he showed up at the meeting, casting glances between him and me. Did you think I wouldn't notice? The way you've been ignoring each other? I told you that I was getting over him, you don't have to get angry for me every time he disappears and shows up again.”

“That's not-”

“Unless it's because of something else entirely.”

Jason blanched, twisting his water bottle cap. So he'd figured it out. “Nico, I can explain-”

“You told him.”

“Wait, what?”

Nico's face twisted into something ugly. The strawberry fields in the scenic window died. “You told him, didn't you? That's why you've been acting the way you have.” Bitter tears pulled at the corners of his eyes. The air thickened and Jason began to feel claustrophobic. “You told him and he-”

“Holy  _Jove_ , Nico, no! No, no, no,  _no._ No, that's not it at all.”

Nico hesitated, glaring at him suspiciously. “What?”

Jason waved his arms in front of him, shaking his head. “I never told Percy. That's not why I'm... I never told Percy.”

“You didn't tell Percy.”

“No.”

The tears were replaced with a critical glare that would make Derek Hale run for his money. “Then why are you acting like you did?”

Jason twisted the bottle cap so tightly he was having trouble opening it again. “Because I may have done something worse.”

The rough scent of Earth forced its way into Jason's nose as Nico took a step closer, threatening. Electricity instinctively bounced from Jason's fingers, but he kept it to himself, controlled. “What do you mean 'something worse'?”

Jason's throat warmed, his palms sweating. There was no going back now, no other way out but the truth. “... I kissed him.”

And just like that Jason felt as if he were in a tomb.

“...  _What?_ ”

Jason refused to meet Nico's eyes, cracking his knuckles against the side of water bottle and swallowing the saliva that pooled at the back of his throat. “I didn't mean to,” he started. “Well, I mean, I did, but I- I didn't mean to  _fall_ for him, I mean- Not that I'm in  _love_ with him, I mean-” He strangled the word-vomit that threatened to overtake him. He tried again.

“I love Percy,” he said quietly. “I don't know how it happened. It wasn't intentional. I never even meant to act on anything. I still love Piper. But then Piper and I broke up and he and Annabeth broke up and the feelings were still there and he was a mess and I just... I wanted to make him feel wanted, you know? To show him he was wanted, but instead I did what  _I_ wanted and... And I kissed him. He disappeared after that. ...For a year. Now he's back and things are awkward. And that's... That's why I've been acting strange. I didn't want to tell you because- I'm sorry for... I'm sorry for betraying you like this, I really am. This is so much worse than what I did with Reyna. I... Nico, I'm- Why are you smiling?”

The son of Hades was looking at him as if he were a kind of circus spectacle. “You've completely ignored everything that I've said haven't you?”

Jason frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nico took a step back, shaking his head and shoulders shaking. “Jason, I said I'm getting over him. More than just getting over him.”

“Well... Well, yeah, but.” Jason shook his head. “But Percy's... You're not mad?”

Nico shrugged. “I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't, but I know more than anyone that love isn't something you do on purpose.” He licked his lips. “Sorry for thinking that you'd outed me. I know you're not that kind of person.”

Jason stared at him before sighing, “ _Dude_ ,” and pulling him into a hug. “I'm just glad you don't hate me,” he whispered.

Nico snorted, wrapping his own arms around Jason. “As if anyone could hate you.”

They stayed like that for a long moment before Jason jerked back. “Wait,” he said, holding Nico by the shoulders. “You said 'more than just getting over him.' What do you mean-”

Jason didn't know what happened next. 

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and the Argo II jerked at a 45 degree angle. Next thing he knew, his head was throbbing from landing on the leg of one of the picnic tables nailed to the floor. Nico was on the ground next to him, his arm bleeding with at least seventy splinters embedded into his skin from skidding across the floor-boards. 

Jason pulled himself up, hissing in pain. “What in _Pluto_ -?”

“I don't know,” Nico growled, standing shakily as the ship rocked. “But whatever it is, we need to get on deck.”

 


	21. Chapter 21

The ship continued to rock dangerously as he and Nico forced their way up the stairs. Twice, Jason had to reach out and steady Nico although the son of Hades didn't need the assistance; his hands had vice grips on the railings on either side of him.

By the time they reached the deck, what Jason saw made him fear for his life. One of the masts had been snapped nearly in half by something huge and there was a hole the size of Zeus' Fist starting from the top of the deck down into what had been Frank's bedroom. Leo was going to _kill_ him. But Jason didn't have time to think about that.

Percy wasn't at the helm.

Panic set in instantly. His eyes swept the ship for any sign of a body, but he couldn't see anything. He was about to head for the wheel when Nico grabbed his arm and held him back.

“Wait,” he hissed.

“What is it?” Jason asked. His body was screaming to find Percy, find Percy, _find Percy_ , but something about the look on Nico's face grounded him.

“Do you feel that?” he asked.

Jason forced himself to focus on his senses rather than his emotions. The salty air pricked at his skin, but the wind smelled off, like something foul. Like when you were walking down the boardwalk and caught a strong whiff of port-o-potty. A shudder came up through the floorboards and rolled through Jason's thighs.

“What is that?” His hands were shaking.

“The ship stopped moving,” Nico whispered.

The silence was eerie. Jason could hear the sound of the mast cracking as it threatened to break the rest of the way, could hear the waves lapping at the sides of the wounded ship. And then, like the mast, the silence was snapped, torn by a low, nerve-murdering moan Jason had only heard in monster movies.

Nico jerked his hand to the scabbard of his sword, but Jason was glad that he didn't have a chance to draw the weapon. If he had, Jason would've surely been decapitated because the ship jolted harshly again, sending the son of Hades sidelong into Jason. The two boys went sprawling across the deck. The ship reeled and tipped as whatever was beneath them slammed itself into the underside of the horse stables.

Jason tried to get to his feet, the gold coin of his gladius fisted in his left hand. But before he could flip it, a loud crackling caught his attention and he whipped around just in time to see the mast coming down ontop of him. Nico shoved him out of the way. The sound of the colision of the mast and deck was ear-splitting. The sails went down and a broken shipping wire just missed Jason's eye.

He turned his head to make sure Nico was okay. The son of Hades was sitting up on his elbows, staring out with his jaw slack and eyes bright with terrified awe. Jason followed his line of vision, but what he saw was nearly gone by the time he spotted it: a long, scaled tail.

“A dragon?” He tried to listen for where the monster moved, but there was only silence.

“No,” Nico said, his voice quivering. “A serpent. A sea serpent.”

“I thought serpents lived toward the bottom of the ocean,” Jason said. He felt around for his gladius. “Like eels and stuff. Fishing in the sand.” He checked his hands, his pockets, then the surrounding floorboards. He cursed. “I lost my weapon.”

“I don't think it would do much good anyway,” Nico said. “The thickness of its skin would break your spear before you could even penetrate deep enough to seriously wound. You'd need something like a battleship for that to work.” He shook his head. “You need your powers for this.” He suddenly looked worried. “And Percy's.”

 _Percy_.

“Percy!” Jason shouted, looking around the deck. There was no answer, no moan, no groan, no anything. He got to his knees and scrambled toward the wheel, expecting the worst. However, what he found only made him more frantic. “He's not here!”

Nico stood, eyes scanning the deck's surface and the surrounding water. “I don't see him.”

Jason pulled himself up with what remained of the wheel, his face hot and heart thrumming in his ears. “Percy!” he called. He inched his way toward the hole in the side of the deck, but it was too dangerous to get close enough to see inside. “ _Percy!_ ”

“Jason, stop,” Nico commanded.

Jason stopped.

A fog was beginning to set in on the water and the sea serpent's moan was growing steadily louder. “It's a monster,” Nico said, taking slow steps toward Jason. “Which means it feeds on demigods. And if it's a sea serpent,” he added, meeting Jason's eyes, “then it uses ecolocation. Which means if you keep calling out Percy's name, it'll be able to find you.”

As if answering the son of Hades, there was a splintering creek and the ship rocked.

Nico pulled out his black sword, eyes studying the water.

Jason tried to swallow his fear for Percy. It wasn't like him to get so riled that he forgot himself in battle. He was a son of Jupiter.

 _Act like one_ , said the voice in his head.

“If it's attacking the ship,” Jason said, “we need to take to the sky.”

He held out his hand.

Nico stared at it, letting out an agitated sound. Reluctantly, he took Jason's hand, moving in close so the son of Jupiter could grip him tight enough to fly. “Just so you know,” he said, “Lois Lane is _so_ much better than Superman.”

“Whatever you say,” Jason said. They took off. Nico's arms tightened around him the higher they rose until Jason stopped fifty feet above the ship.

“Holy Hera,” Nico whispered.

Holy Hera was right. From where they were, they could see the dark shadow of the serpent beneath the water, circling around the Argo II at least a dozen times. Jason felt his stomach tighten at the sight. If that thing destroyed the ship then not only would they have no transporation from here on out, but Leo would never speak to him again.

Holding Nico firmly with one hand, Jason raised his other to the sky. The fog had thickened, but Jason could still see the storm clouds responding to his summons. They darkened and circled them. Lightning shot across the sky.

“Come on,” Jason growled.

He felt the familiar tug in his gut as the lightning came to him and then-

“Jason!”

Startled, Jason swiftly looked down. The serpent had spotted them and wrenched its giant, scaled head from the water, launching itself at them. For a frightening moment, Jason was hypnotized by its red eyes. They seemed to lock him in place, turn him to stone. They said _Give yourself to me_ and Jason could only comply. Luckily, he had Nico and the son of Hades' screams ripped him back into reality.

“ _JUPITER!_ ” he roared and lightning shattered from the sky in a swift arc right as the monster opened its jaws for them. The shock hit dead-on and the serpent let out a bone-chilling wail as it swung its broad body sideways and fell back into the water.

The boys floated, panting and staring after the creature. It had unraveled itself from the ship and after nearly three full minutes of silence, the fog growing thicker all the while, Jason gasped, exhausted, “I think it's-”

He was cut off by a massive screech that nearly blew them out of the sky.

“Alive,” Nico grunted in his ear. “I think it's very much alive.”

Jason made the winds spin them, trying to find an opening in the fog in order to see the water, to see anything. “Where is it?” The lightning he'd summoned had taken a lot out of him and he was sure that with a blast like that, he could only afford one more strike before he couldn't do any more without passing out and leaving Nico on his own. “Nico, I can't see it. Where is it?”

They were silent, listening hard, and then Nico slapped Jason's chest frantically. “Higher!” he shouted. “Fly higher- _Jason, HIGHER!_ ”

Jason threw the wind beneath them in a surge of desperation as the serpent's jaws emerged from the fog directly beneath their feet. They soared up higher, but the monster was too fast and for a terrifying moment they were inside its dark, wet mouth, the stench so harsh it hurt to breathe. But if Jason's life had flashed before his eyes it must have been a pretty short film because one moment they were doomed and the next the sky was above them again, the ocean below them, and the fog gone.

The serpent had let them go, falling backward as it had before, but this time it was different. Not only was Nico's stygian iron blade shoved through the roof of the monster's mouth, but at least forty iron spears three times the size of Jason's entire body had been launched into its side. As the monster moaned its final breath and collapsed into the water with a thunderous splash, Jason looked for the source of the weapons.

And couldn't believe his eyes.

“... Now what,” the son of Jupiter asked, tired of surprises for the day, “is _that_?”

Twenty feet away from the broken haul of the Argo II was a ship so large Jason wasn't sure how it was on the water without the Coast Guard issuing an arrest. There were at least a hundred oars on either side rowing the ship towards them, its sail blowing with a wind that Jason couldn't feel anywhere else. There were people on board, that much he could see. A dark skinned guy was waving at them like they were in an airport with a lighter skinned boy huddled next to him in a towel like he was in shock. _Percy_ , Jason thought with relief. The rest of the ship seemed as if it were run by wind spirits. No one else was on deck or, from what Jason could tell, even driving the ship.

“That,” Nico answered him as they descended. He sounded exhausted. “Would be Noah.”

 


	22. Chapter 22

The serpent had come out of no where.

Percy'd taken the wheel as Nico had asked him to and kept the ship straight, the ocean air driving the negative thoughts from his mind as he tried to formulate an apology to Jason.

The son of Jupiter had been ignoring him since he'd arrived back at camp and Percy knew he had every right to do so. However, he wanted to make it clear that he still wanted to be friends even if Jason was in a relationship with Nico now.

He hadn't even felt the monster's presence until it was too late. The ship had jolted so sharply that at first he'd thought they'd hit an underwater rock formation or mountain range, but the next thing he knew something dark and scaly tore its way out of the water and swept across the ship, breaking the mast in half and sending him sailing through the air at least ¾ of a mile away from the ship.

The pain from the monster's impact and the sudden submergence into water sent Percy into a panic attack before he even had the chance to rationalize the situation. Rather than keeping himself dry and breathing, Percy let the water overtake him in a state of terror. He held his breath on instinct and thrashed for the surface, but he couldn't find it. Everything was dark. His chest was aching for oxygen, his eyes felt like they were being pressed into his skull, and his head felt like it was going to explode until finally he gasped and water flooded his lungs. His vision blurred completely and then he was gone.

Next thing he knew, he was puking up water and staring up into the face of a Latino kid in a fur cloak telling him to “hang on, bro, hang on.” Percy gulped down the fresh air, eyes flashing left and right as he desperately took in his surroundings, dazed and confused. The ship wasn't the Argo II. The wood was a lighter color, the bow a different layout.

The kid took off his cloak and draped it over Percy's body. “Keep this on,” he said. “Or you'll freeze to death.” He stood. “Just because it's summer doesn't mean the water's warm. Especially ocean water.” Percy squinted into the sunlight trying to get a better look at him. The guy was wearing leather armor over a Football jersey and blue-ink tattoos ran up his right arm in different shapes that Percy couldn't make out. He tried to see if his left arm was the same, but for some reason he couldn't see it.

“What-?” Percy tried to ask, but he ended up in a coughing fit.

“Relax,” the guy told him and his voice was so soft Percy did just that. “I'm a friend of a friend. And right now your friends need help.”

_His friends._

“Jason,” he gasped, struggling to his feet. “Nico.” The guy didn't try to keep him down, but instead held his hand out to keep Percy steady.

When Percy looked up, the sight was terrifying. The Argo II looked more like a shipwreck than a ship and the sea serpent was throwing itself up out of the water and towards a flying speck Percy _knew_ was Jason. As the monster took a snap at the air, Percy let out a cry, but then Jason sent down a surge of lightning that cast the creature down.

“That won't hold it for long,” the guy said next to him. His eyes were so intense Percy felt scared just looking at him. Then he shouted something that Percy thought was the equivalent of punching a keyboard. “ _Skidbladnir_! Take arms!” The ship trembled beneath them and Percy instinctively pulled the cloak tighter around himself. A dark shape came up through the fog and Percy watched as the serpent shot itself from the water with a screech for the second time.

“ _FIRE!_ ” the kid roared. The ship jerked and, on the guy's command, a mass of spears fired from the starboard and port side toward the monster. Several of the spears missed the target, but many of them hit and with a final shriek, the serpent went down for the count.

 

* * *

 

 

The next hour was filled with a lot of hugs and a lot of weapon retrieval. After awkwardly pulling away from Jason knowing that Nico was there, Percy helped the son of Jupiter retrieve his gladius, although his refusal to actually go into the water to get it (instead summoning the water itself to bring the coin to the surface) seemed to confuse both of his friends.

Nico retrieved his sword from the serpent's head with a few disgusting, wet yanks and the Armless Tattooed Latino Dude as Percy had begun to mentally call him swam out to pull out as many spears as he could salvage. The introductions came later once they'd all settled down on-board, the Argo II on flight-mode and hooked up to the stern of the _Skidbladnir_ via a series of ropes.

“Noah's a Viking demigod,” Nico explained as they took all took a seat along the rowing benches. Said Viking demigod offered a smile. “I met him when I was accidentally separated from Reyna and Coach Hedge when we were bringing the Athena Parthenos to Camp. I helped him find and rescue his brother from a monster in exchange for protecting me while I recovered from shadow-traveling.”

“ _You will go North where the Varangians lie_ ,” Percy quoted. “So the prophecy wasn't joking. There are Viking demigods?”

“And others,” Nico said, nodding slowly. “That's where I've been for the past year.” He looked to Jason. “You asked me what I've been doing since I hadn't been at Camp Jupiter or the Underworld. I've been serving as a diplomat across demigod camps and regions.”

Jason looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean 'others'?”

“The Greek and Roman gods aren't the only ones in existence,” Nico said. “And they're certainly not the only ones who are still prayed to and have become a part of everyday living in modern day North America. The rest of the world has their own religions as well. Their own gods, their own worlds. Their own demigods.” He took a breath. “The worlds are usually kept separate because of conflicts and wars. What happened with Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter during the Civil War wasn't special. It's just modern. Roman demigods have fought against the Germanic demigods in brutal battles. They've also fought against the Celtic demigods and druids. Christian magicians threatened Egyptian magicians. The list goes on.”

“But if they're meant to be kept separate,” Percy asked, “why are you bringing them together?”

Nico shared a look with Noah before letting out a shuddering breath. “That's what I've been meaning discuss at the Camps.”

“Nico,” Jason said, leaning forward on the row bench. His face was serious. “What's going on?”

Nico looked from Jason to Percy to Noah to Jason before lowering his gaze to the floor. “The Rägnorok,” he said.

Percy groaned. “I'm not going to have any idea what you people are saying.” He dragged his hands over his face and through his damp hair. For some reason, no matter how much he willed himself automatically dry, the water didn't seem to respond. “The _what-na-what_?”

“The end of the world,” Noah supplied. He ran his hand over the front of his jeans. Percy could understand his nervousness; he'd seen enough possible end of the worlds to last a lifetime. “It's predetermined in Norse mythology. Nico's told us about Kronos and Gaea and what you guys have recently faced.” He looked at them with the same level of intensity he'd given the serpent. “It's not like that.”

Jason frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean it's written,” Noah said. “Prophesied. And I don't mean obscure, Delphi oracle kind of prophecy. I mean it's described, in thorough detail, with specifics about what will happen. Its citations have citations.”

“We need to stop it from happening,” Nico continued. “The only way to do that is to combine forces from all sides, from all parts of the world. The Rägnorok will only come true if it's left only to the Norse, only to the Vikings. If we join together – Celts, Romans, Greeks, Africans, Hindus, and everyone else – we can stop this. I know we can.”

Jason looked uncertain. “Nico,” he said gently. “We just got out of a war. How can you expect us to go into another one after just a year's recuperation? If that?”

“Because we have no choice,” Nico growled, eyes flashing. “This isn't just about the Norse world, this is about _our_ world, about _all_ worlds. Sure, we can sit back and do nothing because we're still licking our wounds from Gaea, but that doesn't mean that what's going to happen isn't going to happen to _us_. I made a promise that I would help the Viking camp. What the Greek and Roman camps choose to do is their own business. By all means, be cowards. But I'm doing what I said I would do.”

“Nico,” Noah said in a low voice. “This is still new to them.”

Nico nodded tightly, his leg bouncing.

Noah squeezed his shoulder, then stood to look out over the water. “I can see the coastline,” he said. “We should be there within an hour.” He turned back to them. Jason and Nico both looked uncomfortable, their faces pinched in serious expressions, Jason with his hands clasped between his knees and Nico massaging his wrist. Noah seemed to wilt a little as if he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with them. “You guys hungry?” he asked.

“Hell, yeah,” Percy answered for the other two. “We haven't eaten anything since this morning before we hit the road. I'm starved.”

Noah smiled. “We'll stop somewhere before we go to the camp. On me.”

At that, Percy smiled a tired smile back and announced, “I like this guy.” And for a split second he swore he saw Jason flinch.

 


	23. Chapter 23

They'd made it to land within an hour just like Noah had said. Luckily, the mist kept the Canadian border patrol from arresting them and the mortals from gawking at the fact that a Greek war ship was literally flying behind a Viking longship.

Another lucky thing?

He'd been around Leo long enough not to be weirded out by seeing large things put into and pulled out of a tool belt too small to hold them. However, Percy hadn't. His face when Noah folded – repeat: _folded_ – the _Skidbladnir_ like it was nothing but a piece of paper and slipped it into his back pocket was absolutely priceless. 

They docked the Argo II, still flying, by tying a rope to one of the posts.

“No monsters will attack it while we're eating?” Jason asked, staring up at the ship. It looked like a wooden Pablo Picasso sculpture.

“I doubt it,” Noah said. “Monsters don't really come down by the water here. They prefer the deeper city. More places to hide.”

Jason grunted. “Are we staying by the water then?”

“Until we head to camp.”

“Where's camp?”

“Downtown.”

“Great.”

“We'll be able to get it on the roof if it's still capable of being flown manually,” Noah said. “Ginnie can put up a shield to keep monsters from seeing it. We don't want a MapQuest effect.”

“I don't think the controls were completely destroyed,” Jason said. “Flying it might be possible.” He frowned. “Wait, what do you mean 'the roof'? The roof of what?”

“Camp,” Noah said.

“... Your camp is inside a  _warehouse_ ?”

“You say it like it's a bad thing.”

“It  _is_ a bad thing!” Was this guy for real? “There's no way you can have proper protection inside of a  _ware_ house. You could be easily surrounded. There's no way a monster wouldn't be unable to smell an entire building full of demigods.”

“Jason,” Noah said, holding up his hands. “It's Jason, right? Relax. We're not noobs to the Mythology game here. We manage to keep ourselves protected and we do it well. I'm not taking you to your death, okay?”

“It's not my death I'm worried about,” Jason said flatly, but he relaxed his shoulders.

Noah's expression was sympathetic. “How about we grab some Tim Horton's? Welcome you to the country with some authentic, Canadian cafe cuisine?”

“Authentic?” Percy asked. He still hadn't taken off the fur cloak and Jason idly thought it made him look like he'd been eaten by a bear. “Tim Horton's is Canadian?”

“Yeah,” Noah said. He started to lead them toward the more populated parts of the dock toward the street. “You didn't know that?”

“No,” Percy admitted. His lower lip protruded only by an increment, but it was enough to make Jason's heart stutter. “I've seen them in the city and upstate. I thought it was a New York thing.” Then his eyes widened considerably. “Oh my gods,  _that's_ why the webpage kept going to Google.ca!”

Noah gave him a strange look, but Nico only shook his head. Percy's light-bulb moments were not to be understood.

When they got to the coffee shop, Jason pulled Nico to aside while Percy and Noah went up to the front to order. “I want to apologize for earlier,” he said, burrying his hands in his pockets.

Nico made a face. “I'm listening.”

“It's not that I don't think we should help them, because we should,” Jason said earnestly. “It's just... We just got out of a war. I'm worried that getting the other campers to unite so soon to fight another one might be difficult. They might not listen, Nico.”

“I'm aware that there's that chance,” Nico said. His eyes searched Jason's. “But if that's the way that it'll be, will you still be there? Or will you be with Camp Jupiter?”

Jason steadied his gaze on Nico's. “You know where I'll be.”

“And if Percy decides not to fight? Where will you be then?”

“He'll be there.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because Thor over there just bought him a bagel.”

Nico turned his head to see the son of Poseidon licking cream cheese off the side of what was, in fact, a bagel. He sighed through his nose. “I'm just... worried.”

“About the Ragnarok?”

“About  _them_ .” Nico looked up at him, expression guarded. “At both Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter, I was looked upon with suspicion because I was a son of Hades. No one wants to be friends with me because they're afraid of me.”

“Nico-”

“Don't say they aren't because they are. Even your best friend is scared of me.”

Jason set his jaw. He was right. Leo even told him once that he thought of Nico when he needed a cold shower.

“It's because of my powers, because I can talk to the dead, and because of my father. But at the Viking encampment? There's new demigods coming in  _every day_ . There's no  _time_ for suspicion. And there's so many powerful kids there that I'm not a freak for what I can do. I've made  _friends_ there. People who  _like_ me. People who  _accept_ me for more than just being a son of Hades.” The earnestness in his voice made Jason's chest ache. “I don't want to lose that.”

Jason nodded tightly. He reached forward, grasping Nico's shoulder in a squeeze. “You won't.” He gave a small smile. “I promise.” 

But something in Nico's eyes flashed at his words and before Jason could ask about it someone cleared their throat. 

“I wasn't sure what you wanted,” Noah said, balancing three bags and a tray of coffees in the same hand. His only hand. “So I just kind of...” 

“That's fine,” Jason said, taking the tray. “Thank you. Really. Here. Let's sit.”

They shuffled toward one of the tables next to the window, a strategy he'd learned a while back from Reyna. “If you ever eat out somewhere in the mortal world,” she'd told him. “Make sure you're by a window. You want to keep an eye out for monsters. See them before they see you.” Noah seemed to have the same idea, his eyes giving a quick survey the street outside before settling down in his chair. Nico sat next to him, taking a coffee with an soft 'thank you.'

The only open seat left was the one next to Jason and Percy took it without hesitation. 

Their thighs brushed for only the briefest of moments, but it was enough to send Jason's heart hammering. He could smell the son of Poseidon tool: a the faint scent of ocean and sweat. His hair had finally dried and it sat wind-swept, tossed to the side naturally instead of how he'd recently chosen to wear it that morning in an attempt to hide the unevenness of his bangs. Jason wanted to run his fingers through it, to pull at it. Watching Percy suck cream cheese from his thumb only made the urge worse. 

_Jove_ , he needed to talk to him.

“So, Noah,” Jason said, clearing his throat and taking a coffee. “Who's your immortal parent? If you don't mind me asking?” That was safe enough conversation, right?

The viking licked a stripe of chocolate frosting from the top of his doughnut. “Freyr.”

“Oh.” He took the lid off his coffee. “That's cool.”

He had no idea who that was.

Nico seemed to notice, sparing Jason an amused glance. “Freyr's the Norse god of prosperity, virility, and fair weather.”

“Fair weather,” Jason said, pouring three creamers into his cup. “Is that why the fog cleared when you arrived?”

“Partially,” Noah said. “But it has more to do with the ship. It was made for my father by the sons of Ivaldi. It finds good wind to sail wherever you need to go.”

“I still prefer a Maserati,” Percy said around his bagel. “But that's one sweet ride.”

Noah smiled. “It has its perks. You're a son of Poseidon, right?”

“The one and only,” Percy said with a wink. Jason tore open a sugar packet.

“Now  _that_ is sweet. Do you sail often?”

“Not really. I'm from Manhattan, so not much sea to see, right?”

Noah grinned. “Right.”

“But you're a viking, right?  _Yo_ , I watched a documentary once with my mom about you guys. Your ship-building skills are  _sick_ .”

“You should see the one we're building now. The craftsmanship on the head is one of the coolest things you'll ever see. Tanya's an amazing artist.”

“So what can you do?” Jason asked, urging the conversation away from Percy and feeling simultaneously guilty for being so stupidly jealous.

Noah shifted his attention back to Jason. “What do you mean?”

“I mean. Like. Your powers. Percy can control water, I can summon lightning, Nico can break open the earth. What about you?”

The son of Freyr licked another stripe across his doughnut, pondering the question. Jason honestly didn't know why he felt so threatened. The guy was average looking, not unattractive, but not really capable of turning heads. His hair was dark and curly and Percy seemed to prefer blonds. But then again, the last time Jason had seen him, he preferred his blonds with breasts. “I don't.”

“Don't?” Jason asked. “Don't what?”

“Have any,” Noah said with a shrug.

“You... Nothing?”

“Nope.” He shrugged again. “I'm good with an axe, but unless you count making your bros pop Bs, then I don't really have anything.”

Jason frowned. “Making your bros pop Bs?”

“My dad's a phallic fertility god,” Noah said, lowering his voice. “So while other demigods accidentally blow things up or something when they get mad or excited?”

“You blow up your bros,” Jason said.

He was trying extremely hard not to laugh. Luckily, he wasn't the first one to lose it. 

Percy let out an elephant sound next to him and buried his face in the cloak. Jason lost it immediately after. 

“It's not funny,” Noah whined. “I don't even like guys.”

Percy continued laughing, tears rolling down his cheeks, but what Noah said caught Jason's attention. “What?”

“I said I don't even like guys. But they never seem to understand that and get all accusatory about it like I do it on purpose.” His face colored. “As if I want to see that shit.”

“Wait,” Jason said, shaking his head. “You're not gay?”

“No,” Noah said. He frowned. “Why?”

“No reason.” He let his thigh touch against Percy's. “No reason at all.”

 


	24. Chapter 24

The Argo II ended up _not_ being safe enough to fly manually, but luckily Noah seemed to know enough about ships and cars (and ship-car hybrids apparently) to be able to hot-wire it and place the Argo II on autopilot. The ship now sailed over the city of Toronto - barely managing to dodge several tops of building and running into at least one which put another hole in the hull (sorry Leo) - toward the destination of the warehouse they were headed for.

Toronto reminded Percy a lot of New York. Despite having to follow Noah and Nico around rather than taking the lead himself, he felt right at home. Within fifteen minutes, a ball of confidence resurfaced in his gut and that feeling of owning the streets bled back into the soles of his feet where it belonged.

Luckily, the mist seemed to work just as well in Canada as it did in the States: the people walking by didn't even give them a second glance even though Percy was pretty sure he looked more than a little strange in Noah's fur cloak. Since they'd landed, he refused to part with it; he couldn't seem to get warm. Percy wondered if it had to do with being out of the gods' realm or with his growing phobia water.

At that thought, his face burned with a sense of shame. Maybe it was time Iris-Message Thalia. She might not be able to be in the company of men, but Percy wasn't interested in her virginity and he was pretty sure that she would pummel him before she ever fell for him. He just needed to know that he wasn't alone, needed to know he wasn't a loser for being a child of the Big Three who was afraid of what they should give them the most power. But maybe that was just it.

Maybe he was afraid of power.

Percy was so caught up in his thoughts he almost ran headlong into Jason. They'd stopped across the street from a large building with a greenish roof. Tilting his head back, Percy could just make out a sign in a fancy font at the top of it. Well, actually, he could tell there were _words_ at the top of it; his dyslexia kept him from being able to tell what it actually said. Luckily, Noah was more speech-oriented than visual.

“The Fairmont Royal York Hotel,” Noah said. His head was also tilted back, but while to passers-by he looked as if he were admiring the architecture his eyes were actually moving swiftly from left to right up and down the street.  _Scoping for monsters_ , Percy thought.

“What're we doing here?” Jason asked, voice quiet.

“You'll see,” was all Noah said and then they were crossing the street.

The minute they stepped into the lobby Percy found himself wishing the fur cloak was more of a fur  _coat_ despite the fact that there were people walking around in casual button-down shirts. Just the room itself was huge with two glittering chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and fancy chairs and couches lining the length of the hall between a staircase and the front desk, which Noah walked toward confidently as if he hadn't just come into the Canadian Waldorf in a pair of jeans and a Minnesota Vikings jersey. At least, Percy _thought_ it was the front desk. There were number of other desks behind the pillar-like walls, each identically decorated with black granite and a framed picture on the back wall, with a small handful of patrons at each one. They were definitely reception desks. 

“Are you sure you know where you're going?” Percy asked, but when he looked up as they stopped he saw a woman at the large brown desk in the center of the room who hadn't been there before. She had black hair pulled back in a tight bun and a bluetooth in her ear, paying no attention to them as she typed away on a laptop Percy couldn't quite see. However, something he  _could_ see was a small tattoo behind the woman's ear, barely visible on her dark skin. It looked like a distorted anchor.

Noah saw it too although he stared at it far more intensely than Percy thought necessary. Then he spoke in a quiet voice in that same keyboard-punch language he'd heard him speak before: “ Han kaller til meg, så fører meg til ham.*”

The woman looked up and gave Noah a critical look. 

For a second, Percy thought the guy had just weirded her out, but then he realized as Noah turned his head she was looking for a tattoo. The  _ same  _ tattoo, in fact, right behind the ear. It was in blue ink like the ones on Noah's arm, but up close Percy could tell now that it wasn't a distorted anchor after all. It was some kind of upside-down hammer. 

After scrutinizing the tattoo the same way Noah had hers, the woman pulled back and took something off from around her neck: a small silver chain. Percy couldn't see what was on it she moved so fast, but it must have been a key because the next moment there was a small click and the sound of a drawer being opened and swiftly closed again. The woman slid a business card across the counter, only letting go when Noah took hold of it. He slipped it carefully into his pocket. 

“Hail Odin,” Noah whispered, holding eye-contact.

The woman adjusted her bluetooth. “Hail Odin.” And then she looked down again as if they were never there. Likewise, Noah turned on his heel and stalked right back down the hall toward the staircase leading down from the lobby to gods-knew-where. Nico kept pace with him, never falling behind, but Percy and Jason hurried to catch up, confused as to what had just actually happened.

Pulling the cloak tighter around himself, Percy tried not to trip as they moved down the stairs. “Can I be the one to ask what the heck is going on?”

“We're going to Avenue level beneath the lobby,” Noah said.

“That's not what I meant and you know it,” Percy growled. “If this is some kind of cult thing, then you guys better tell me right now because I'm not going to be anyone's virgin sacrifice. I will fight you to the death, I swear. I'm not afraid to kill a man.”

As they came to the bottom of the stairs, Noah tossed him a look like he wasn't sure if he should be amused or offended, but it was Nico who chose to explain. “You know how in the Empire State Building, there's a receptionist who holds the key to the 600 th floor?” Percy nodded. “This is almost the same thing.”

“Except the key is a card?” Jason asked. Percy hadn't noticed how close they were standing together until he'd spoken. Hair rising on the back of his neck, he shifted a step away, but Jason caught the movement and sent him a sideways glance.

“Except the key is  _ on  _ the card,” Nico said. He waved his hand in a small circle as they started walking again. “Have you ever read Harry Potter?” He seemed to think better of his question. “Or listened to it on tape?”

Both Jason and Percy shook their heads.

“Well, in the Harry Potter series, each dormitory in the school is protected by a wall painting that lets you in only if you have the password. Well, the Gryffindor one is like that anyway. The Ravenclaw-”

“Nico,” Noah said gently.

Nico cleared his throat. “Since the camp is receiving demigods from different encampments from different worlds every day because of the approaching war-”

“The rug rock thing,” Percy said.

“The Ragnarok,” Nico corrected. “We thought it would be best to change the password to the camp more frequently in order to keep monsters from following demigods from point A to point B and from tricking Heimdallr to letting them past.”

“Who's Him-doll?” Percy asked.

“The woman upstairs,” Noah said. “She protects the  Bifröst.”

“The rainbow bridge thing from  _ Thor _ ? I thought Him-doll was a guy?”

“She's identified as a woman since 1886.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Wait,” Jason said, making a 'T' with his hands. “So what was that thing you said to her? The Norse?”

“It's the original pass-code,” Noah said. They made a turn and Percy vaguely realized they were somewhere underground. “It's how Heimdallr can identify Viking demigods.”

“Then what's with the tattoos?” Jason asked, frowning.

“It's in case someone who doesn't belong to the camp learns the code. It's the symbol of Thor, though it's a little different from the ancient version so it can't be replicated easily.”

“And every Viking demigod has one of those tattoos?”

Noah nodded. “And some trusted others.”

“Like Nico,” Percy realized. He had noticed the son of Hades had lost the pallid look of his skin and (finally) received a haircut, but he hadn't been paying enough attention to see the small tattoo behind Nico's ear. He reached out and touched it, grinning when Nico slapped his hand away with a grunt. “So where are we?” he asked. They were walking through some kind of tunnel system, although it felt like a mall. Shops ranging from candy stores to men's fashion to flower shops lined the sides of the walls.

“PATH,” Noah said.

“PATH?” Percy repeated. “Is that another Viking thing?”

Noah laughed. “No. It's a Toronto thing. PATH is an underground walkway for pedestrians so they can stay dry in nasty weather if they want to go out for food or shop.”

“That's cool,” Jason said. “I've heard of colleges doing that sort of thing, but I wouldn't have considered a city.”

“We Canadians are an innovative people.”

Nico pointed to a blue arrow on a sign along one of the walls. “We're on Adelaide Street right now. We need to keep going North.”

“Until where?” Jason asked.

“City Hall,” Nico said. “Or thereabouts. But we won't actually be going into the building.”

“Why's that?” Percy asked. He almost felt like he was twelve again on his first quest with Annabeth and Grover. Everything out of his mouth felt like a question and it was always  _ Who? What? When? Where? Why? And how in the stone cold Hades?  _

And just like knowledgeable Annabeth, instead of answering concisely, Nico simply replied with, “You'll see.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *He calls to me, so bring me to him.
> 
> I hope it's not extremely obvious that the only time I've been to Toronto was when I was 6 to see The Lion King.


	25. Chapter 25

Like Nico had said they stopped short of entering City Hall, instead pulling off to the side of the PATH exit to a wall that for some reason the mortals didn't seem to pay any attention to or even notice. At first, Percy thought it was coincidental – who cared about a niche by an exit? But as they stopped and circled around Noah while he pulled out the card, Percy realized there was some kind of barrier there. People shouldered out of the way of... nothing. It was like the wall _they_ were seeing was four feet in front of where it actually was.

Percy forced himself to peel his eyes away from the scene in order to pay attention to Nico's “you'll see.”

From what Percy could read, the card Noah held was covered in gibberish, but the Viking seemed to be able to read it just fine. He looked up from the card to the wall with that same expression of intensity that became so routine in the past two hours that Percy dubbed it a case of RSKF – Resting Serial Killer Face. However, the  _resting_ part seemed to decide it was time to awaken. One moment, Noah was staring at the wall and the next he had the pad of his thumb in his mouth cutting down into the skin with his teeth.

“Dude!” Percy cried out. “Self-harm is not the way!”

But Noah cast him a glare and pulled his thumb back out of his mouth. Blood pooled on his skin and lower lip. “I'm not  _self-harming_ , numb-skull.” He reached forward and pressed his thumb to the wall, making a straight line down and crossing it with a diagonal line to the right. “I'm opening a doorway.” Before Percy could ask, the symbol Noah had made began to glow a faint red and the son of Freyr began to mutter. “Hail to the goddesses of the  Æsir and Vanir,” he said in a low, haunting voice. “Hail to the gods of the  Æsir and Vanir. Hail to mighty, fecund Nerthus. Hail to the Sky overhead.” He licked his lips. “We praise the gods freely and are helped in return.*” At his words, the glow of the symbol spread along the wall until it made the shape of a doorway.

Silence. 

And then. 

The wall pushed back with a sudden lurch, making them jump.

“I'll never get used to that,” Noah admitted, hand on his chest.

The wall continued to grind backwards for six feet before halting. Noah walked forward into the space without hesitation followed by Nico and Jason followed Nico immediately after as if pulled in by a magnetic force. Watching him do it, something green and nasty twisted itself in the low of Percy's gut. But he wouldn't let his emotions get the better of him. Not again.

The opening to the space was closed once Percy came over the threshold. A thinner slice of stone wall pushed its way out of the ground like something out of an Indiana Jones movie and sealed itself to the ceiling, leaving only the glowing symbol a source of light.

There was a beat of silence before Percy asked a very important question. “Um?”

“Get ready,” came Noah's voice from the darkness.

Did Percy want to know? He wanted to know. “For what?” 

The glow of the symbol started to wane, replaced with a white light rising from the cement beneath their feet that shifted swiftly from faint to nearly blinding.

“The  Bifröst.”

 

* * *

 

 

Percy's Tips for Traveling by Bifröst:

  1. Keep your hands and feet to yourself at all times. If they exit the Bifröst because you reached out into the light, you might lose them.

  2. Keep your eyes closed. If you open them, you won't go blind, but it's still hella bright and may cause headaches.

  3. Carry meclizine or antacids. You will be nauseous. That is not a 'may'. You _will_ be nauseous.

  4. Unfortunately this isn't Star Trek. Bend knees for a more comfortable impact.

  5. Drink water after traveling.




 

* * *

 

 

Percy felt like he was going to throw up.

He'd only been carried by Jason once in his life and while he hadn't been dropped that was exactly what the Bifröst felt like. Like the Superman if the Superman were a blinding white light of sheer-dropping doom. Luckily, the speed at which they were going eventually slowed so when their feet hit ground again their ankles didn't shatter. However, the ground beneath them moved. They were being slowly lowered.

Percy opened his eyes.

They were on an elevator Percy didn't remember getting on. The walls were sleek and reflective, like it had just been installed, but when Percy looked up at the ceiling that bright light was still there, though it was fading. Lowering his gaze, he noticed there were a large number of buttons down the side of the elevator wall like in the Empire State Building, but where the numbers should be were something else. Runes. Only one of them was lit up, the same symbol Noah had drawn on the wall.

Glancing at the others, Percy was relieved to see that Jason looked just as confused as he did and while Nico and Noah appeared to know what was happening, their faces said they were just as ill. The elevator continued moving for about another minute before coming to a stop. Percy didn't know what the doors would open to, but just as they slid open with a soft  _ ding _ he heard Noah say “Welcome to Camp Valhalla.”

 

 

Noah had called it a warehouse, but it was unlike any warehouse Percy had ever seen. The Bifröst had brought them to the ground floor, which was at least the length of a football field, where at least six massive ships were being worked on and designed. Hundreds of people –  _ demigods,  _ Percy thought – were crowded around them sawing wood, sanding, and carving monstrous faces into the bows. As Nico motioned them to follow up the stairs, Percy was awestruck just watching a test-run of one of the ships' ores.

The next floor up was just as awe-inspiring. It had been renovated so that it almost looked like a set of condos. Long couches leaned up against one of the brick walls with three sets of coffee tables in front of them each covered in maps and what looked like discussions of battle plans. 

A group of fifteen teenagers sat around one of them, bickering back and forth. Some were dressed in leather armor, others in pajama bottoms and sweatshirts. A cute, black girl with a ginger mohawk sat on the floor looking bored, doodling symbols and runes on the floor with white chalk while her friend sat behind her, resting her feet on her back. A flat screen TV was set up on the same brick wall, but instead of sci-fi movies like Percy would prefer, CNN was on instead. 

The entire floor was nearly open-concept save for a few walls that only came to about half the room. One of the walls looked exactly like the coffee tables (covered in geographical maps with arrows and circles drawn on with black sharpie) and another was covered in photographs and cork boards which held up objects like shirts and drawings. By the small garden embedded in the floor beneath it in a long, steel box, Percy figured it was a memory wall for those who had died in battle, like those crosses you saw on the sides of highways. There were two people standing in front of it. A girl in a pink shayla was tacking up a photo and talking to a guy tending to the flowers. Or rather, the flowers tended to themselves. As the guy reached his hand out to them, several roses bloomed.

Percy thought they'd simply walk past the demigods to the roof in order to inspect the damage on the Argo II, but Nico took a turn toward them instead. Correction: toward Flower Guy. That was when things got confusing. While Percy didn't know either of the two, they seemed to know Nico. 

The second Flower Guy saw the son of Hades, his entire face lit up like a Christmas tree. “You're back!” he exclaimed and then practically draped his body atop Nico in an affectionate hug. And then they were-

Shocked, Percy snapped his eyes to Jason, but the son of Jupiter didn't even look angry. He looked mildly surprised. 

What kind of relationship were you in if you kissed a stranger and your boyfriend was  _ mildly surprised?  _ Apparently a relationship with Jason Grace. 

Percy took note.

Something else he took note of? Now that Flower Guy was facing them, he looked  _ extremely  _ familiar. He was tall with a round, ruddy face and curly, blond hair cropped close to his head. Actually, with the guy's reddish nose and almost watery-looking eyes, he looked a lot like Mr-

“ _ Pollux? _ ” Percy asked.

The son of Dionysus looked up, his hands still holding Nico's face. He blinked twice. “Percy?”

“You two know each other?” Jason asked.

“We went to Camp together,” Percy said. In fact, the last time he saw Pollux was during the Battle of Manhattan. He'd been nursing a broken arm when Percy told him to sit out for the rest of the battle on the request of Mr. D. He'd assured Percy he could still fight with the other arm, but Percy insisted. The god of wine didn't want to lose another son. But that had been, what? Two and a half years ago? Pollux had to be at least twenty now. “What are  _ you _ doing with the Vikings?” Percy asked. “Nico said he hadn't told the others at Camp yet.”

Pollux finally let his arms fall. “He hasn't,” he said. “I'm here because I was invited here.”

“By who?”

“Probably by his boyfriend,” the girl in the shayla said. Her face was pinched like she was trying not to laugh. “But I mean, who knows? Could've been invited by some other bloke he's kissed. Not that there's many of those.”

Pollux snorted and shoved her playfully. “ _ Excuse you _ .”

“His boyfriend?” Percy asked, confused.

“ _ Nico _ , mate,” the girl said. She went back to adjusting the photo she'd just pinned.

Percy blinked slowly, looking back and forth between Pollux and Nico as if they'd grown two heads. Pollux seemed to take something negative from it because he took a step in front of Nico. “Is there a problem with that?” he asked.

Percy could barely process the question. “I-? What? No.” He turned to look at Jason, then turned back to Nico. “I thought... You and Jason aren't...?”

The question hung in the air before Nico chose to answer it, looking almost as confused as Percy felt. “Together? No.”

Percy stared at him.

_ But the arm touching _ , he thought. _ The meaningful looks. The quiet conversations. The way you two invade each others space like it's nothing.  _ “But I... But you're with... You're not dating?”

“No, Percy,” Jason said and his voice was so gentle, Percy couldn't bare to look at him. Because if Nico and Jason weren't dating... And if...

“Nico's dating Pollux,” Percy said.

Apparently that wasn't something often said out loud because Nico colored a little, but he didn't negate the claim. Which meant...

Jason...

“I need some water.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Excerpt from Hail! by Jackie Hannigan, 2002


	26. Chapter 26

As he sat alone in the kitchen area, Percy began to realize just why Chiron never allowed coffee inside Camp walls.

He'd had coffee before – he was from New York City; coffee was his soul food. But he'd never had coffee when he was _anxious_ and now, suddenly, the camp rule made a lot of sense. Greek demigods were usually under stress. Add ADHD into the blend and giving a demigod coffee was like asking someone if their back was itchy and then telling them not to move. 

It wasn't that weirdly romanticized version either, the one where the cute kid is just quirky and flails around a lot while talking a mile a minute? It was like your senses were on hyper-alert mode. Percy couldn't stop noticing  _everything_ , couldn't stop  _thinking_ . The coffee just made everything  _worse_ .

Jason and Nico weren't dating.

Nico and  _Pollux_ were dating.

But wasn't Pollux like 20 years old?

Wasn't Nico like 15 years old?

Wasn't that illegal?

Did they have sex?

Could Nico  _have_ sex?

What was sex with Nico  _like_ ?

Did skeletons rise from the floor when he finished?

Ew, gross, don't think that.

But, wait, did the  _shadows_ in the room do things when he finished?

Did the shadows look like the ones in Hades' cloak?

Did Nico have underwear like Hades?

Did Nico wear clothes that have trapped spirits in them?

What happened when they were put in the washing machine?

How long did it take to wash clothes in the Underworld?

What water did they use?

If you used the river Lethe to wash your clothes, did your clothes forget they were ever dirty?

No,  _focus_ , Jason and Nico weren't dating.

Then who was dating Jason?

No one?

But if Jason wasn't dating anyone, what did that mean?

Did he still have feelings for Percy?

But it'd been like an entire  _year_ and it was only a kiss.

_It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss. Now I'm falling asleep and she's calling a_ \- That was going to be stuck in his head for _ever_ .

But wait, Jason kissed  _him_ . 

He didn't kiss Jason. 

Well, he kissed Jason back. 

_WAIT_ , Percy kissed back!

Did that mean Jason had been totally carrying a torch for him the entire time? 

But why would Jason be carrying a torch for him at all? Had Percy looked in a mirror lately? He looked like a drug addict that spent too much time in a tanning booth. 

Did men even tan? Like in a booth? Was that a thing? Or was that a gay thing? Or just a lizard thing? A gay lizard thing? Were lizards gay? Where did he even get his easy-tan genes from? His dad? Probably his dad. Could Jews even tan? Probably. Maybe he got it from his mom then. 

What if he and Jason started dating, what would that even look like? 

He didn't know how to kiss a guy. That one time had been a fluke. He wasn't even gay. 

Wait, what had Mitchell said before he went back to the Aphrodite cabin?

“What if you didn't have to choose between guys or girls?”

Percy stared holes into the table, trying to think of any other man he found attractive besides Jason. His entire face burned when he realized there was. 

_Luke_ . 

Percy sighed, agitated, and raked his fingers through his hair. 

Maybe the reason he'd been so angry with Annabeth for caring so much about Luke during the war was because Percy wasn't sure who he was jealous of. How freaky was  _that_ ?

Alright, so he'd choose both guys  _and_ girls. That settled the sexuality dilemma, but it didn't settle the  _Jason_ dilemma. 

If he spoke to Jason now, what did that mean? What would happen? What would it result with? Would Jason ask him out? Was he ready for that? What if Percy messed it up? What if Jason wanted something different? What if Jason wasn't actually into guys? What if he was just curious left Percy soon after they got together? What if Jason was actually  _in love_ with him? What if Jason was demisexual and Percy was like a golden ticket? Holy Hades, he'd be so fucked.

Worst of all, what if he eventually saw Percy for the monster he was and left him like Annabeth had for someone better? Someone kinder? Someone better looking? Someone who was mature and less temperamental and smart and who could get a job and go to school like a normal-

“Your face is going to get stuck like that.”

Percy started and looked up from the table. “What?”

Pollux gestured to his own face before scrunching his features into a dramatic scowl. When he relaxed again, he offered a soft smile. “Since I know you're not having a midlife crisis over realizing Nico's isn't straight, do you mind my asking what's bothering you?”

Percy tried to stop his leg from jiggling so hard. He shrugged.

Pollux took a seat on the red stool across from him. When Percy didn't respond after the first few minutes, he reached slowly across the table and touched Percy's hand with two of his fingers. 

The effect was... strange. 

Percy knew what emotional manipulation felt like - he'd been in a room when Piper had used her charmspeak before - but this was different. It was almost like Pollux was slowing down the speed of his thoughts, allowing only one thing to come in at a time, letting him think clearly. 

No wonder Nico was dating him, he thought. Pollux was the human embodiment of adderall.

“Just start from the top,” Pollux suggested. His tone was warm, welcoming.

And so Percy did. He felt a little dumb for pouring it all out there, but every time he looked up at Pollux, the son of Dionysus never looked bored and his eyes never glazed over. Just that knowledge that he was listening kept Percy going. 

He talked about Annabeth, how he still loved her, about how he felt when they broke up and how he stayed in his cabin for three weeks until he couldn't stand how he smelled to  _himself_ . 

He talked about how hearing Jason's voice through the door made him feel and how he'd been afraid of that feeling. He told him about how  _good_ Jason looked in his clothes, how hopeless he felt when Jason pushed him about moving on, about the sheer panic he felt when Jason kissed him. 

He talked about Rachel, about running, about the dream with Ganymede, about the surfing, about the dreams of Jason, about returning to camp, about thinking he and Nico were together and that feeling of rejection. All the while Pollux kept his hand on Percy's, keeping him steady, keeping him from hurdling over the edge.

“I think,” Pollux finally said in a gentle voice when Percy had finished, “you're completely overestimating Jason and the relationship between you two.”

Percy rubbed his nose. “What do you mean?”

“I mean. With the whole 'demigod' thing, we're always focused on living in the moment and trying to grow up too fast because of the fear that we might never grow up at all. But relationships... Relationships can't be like that, Percy. People talk about soulmates and love at first sight and all this junk that's just wish fulfillment and idealism. Life isn't a Hallmark movie even though we wish it were. A romantic relationship consists of spending time with a person you like, communicating with them, learning about them, making mistakes, and making each other happy, content, or even just above shitty.” Percy snorted; Pollux cursing was like seeing Winnie the Pooh hold a gun. “I just mean... Don't look at Jason like this one move could make or break you for the rest of your life. If you and Jason don't end up together, there will be other Jasons. There will be other Annabeths. And if there's not? So what? The meaning of life isn't to find a romantic partner and stay together forever until you die in the same bed.” 

He squeezed Percy's hand. “What I'm trying to say is: talk to Jason. If it works out between you two, that's great. I'm sure you two will be happy together for as long as you're together. If it doesn't work out? That's fine too. It'll hurt, I'm sure, but it won't be the end of the world. You're only 18. You've got years to look forward to meeting someone and years to look forward to discovering yourself.”

“You sound like a self-help book,” Percy said with a wet laugh.

Pollux smiled. “I wouldn't be surprised. I've read a good chunk of those.”

“Relationship problems?”

“More like gender problems.”

It wasn't until Pollux said that that Percy realized the other boy was wearing pink eye-shadow. It was a good look on him. “Are you better now?” Percy asked.

Dimples bloomed on Pollux's cheeks. “Yeah.”

Percy smiled back. “I'm glad.”

They sat there for just a little while longer. Pollux replaced Percy's coffee with an apple juice and just started sipping his own water when Noah poked his head in. “Everything alright in here?” he asked. “We're about to start setting up if you guys wanted to join in. Aaliyah and Manny will be returning soon too.”

“Who's Aaliyah and Manny?” Percy asked once Noah left.

“Aaliyah Jones is the head of the camp,” Pollux explained. “She's kind of like Chiron except she's twenty-two and has legs.”

“Like a praetor?”

“More like a commander in chief. She's a daughter of Odin, so she's higher ranked here.”

“Who's Manny? Her brother?”

“Her bodyguard, actually. Not that she needs one.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “He's actually more of her guard dog. Manny is Noah's younger brother, but he's not a son of Freyr like he is.”

“What is he?” Percy whispered.

“No one's really sure. There's a lot of rumors going around that he's a child of Fenrir.”

“ _No_ ,” Percy gasped. “I have no idea what that is.”

“You know the myth of Lycaon?”

“Werewolves in London circa Ancient Greece.”

“Now picture him, but the size of the sky.”

Percy blinked slowly. “I don't even think I can comprehend that.”

“Exactly. Fenrir's a child of Loki, a trickster god. He's a monstrous wolf who was prophesied to kill Odin during the Ragnarok. In order to keep the prophecy from coming true, the gods restrained Fenrir with a fetter-”

“What the heck is a fetter?”

“It's like a ribbon-thing. It doesn't matter. Anyway, the gods bound Fenrir and it's said that when he's released, the Ragnarok will begin.”

Percy frowned. “If he's bound with a ribbon-thing, then how can Manny be his son?”

Pollux shrugged. “We don't know, which is why some others are thinking it's one of Fenrir's sons, Sköll or Hati Hróðvitnisson.”

“I'm not even going to pretend to understand the sounds that just came out of your mouth.”

“In any case, Manny's no demigod. He's too feral. But Aaliyah trusts him with her life and he's exceptionally loyal to her, so, whether or not he's a monster, I think there's at least something good there.” Pollux twisted the cap back onto his water bottle. “Anyway, that's enough dark gossip from me, I'm sorry. Did you want to come help decorate the warehouse for tonight or did you want to be by yourself a little longer?”

“I think I've been by myself enough,” Percy admitted. He slid off his stool and stretched. “What are we decorating for?”

“Lammas.”

“ _Llamas_ ?”

Pollux snorted. “Lammas. It's a Gaelic festival to honor the beginning of the harvest season.”

“But I thought Camp Valhalla was Norse,” Percy said.

“It is,” Pollux agreed. “But we have to honor the ways of the other demigods as well. Besides, the Vikings like any kind of celebration involving food.”

Percy grinned. “My kind of people.”

 


	27. Chapter 27

Over the course of decorating the third floor of Camp Valhalla for Llamas – er, _Lammas_ – Percy found himself unable to take his eyes off Jason. After talking with Pollux, he felt surprisingly clear-headed. Laying all of his emotions out there like that, having someone to listen to him without judgment... It was like what his mom had told him to do back in elementary school to help with his anger issues.

He had just thrown _Spirit Bear_ at his bed post after his fifth attempt at reading when she had come in, phone still in her hand from her talk with the principal. “I don't know what happened with Jake McNaughten,” she had said gently, stroking his hair while Percy faught back tears. “But I have an idea that might help.” She had told him to write a letter. “To anyone you want. Write out everything that you feel, everything you're thinking. Don't worry about spelling. When you're done, you can even tear it up.”

“How will  _that_ help?” he'd asked, voice wavering.

She smiled her warm smile. “It'll get your thoughts on paper,” she'd said, poking his forehead. “And out of  _there_ .”

With Pollux serving as his paper, Percy was able to think without his worries distorting reality. If Jason and Nico weren't dating, then Jason had been ignoring him for a different reason.

He thought back to Rachel's cabin, to Ganymede's warning:  _There are people worrying about you_ .

Percy frowned to himself, watching the son of Jupiter now as he untangled a large clump of orange twinkle lights across the room. He'd changed clothes at one point, his torn t-shirt now a soft-looking purple Henley that fit in the shoulders, but not in the waist, and his jeans replaced with a pair of orange sweatpants with the letters 'CHB' on the thigh. Pollux's clothes then, since Percy didn't think Jason – or anyone else for that matter – could fit into Nico's. He thought of how he looked in the black V-neck at his party last year, the form-fitting jeans. He thought of the wrinkle right between his eye-brows when he'd tried talking to him. What was it that Jason had said?

_I may have been worried you were a little suicidal_ .

Percy felt his throat tighten. 

He'd told Jason before he had left that he  _wasn't_ suicidal. Apparently that hadn't been enough. His chest tight, he tried to step back from his own emotions and look at things from an omniscient point of view: Percy had disappeared for a year without communicating with anyone, without letting anyone know he was okay. At the time, it had felt good. He had needed to be alone, not just to come to terms with Annabeth leaving him, but to come to terms with the war, with being in Tartarus, with his own emotions that seemed to grow stronger. He didn't want to become Luke, didn't want his dislike of the gods to form into a hatred. He didn't want to become a monster. And so he secluded himself until he... Well, until he felt better.

But maybe that had been selfish.

No.

It  _had_ been selfish.

Jason had worried about him for all that time and Percy had returned to Camp Half-Blood as if nothing had happened. No wonder Jason was ignoring him. But hadn't Jason still cared about his safety? When he and Nico had landed on the... on the uh... on the ship-name-made-up-of-consonants, he'd been the first one to rush to, forehead wrinkled with worry. And hadn't Jason been jealous of Noah? He'd seemed uncomfortable when Percy'd shown interest. Maybe then he still had a shot. But he wasn't sure where to start. “Sorry” felt like an understatement and, even though they both (maybe possibly hopefully) had feelings for each other, asking Jason out on a date after everything that had happened felt kind of rude. 

Percy chewed the inside of his cheek and helped a white girl with strawberry blond hair set up one of the long tables. 

The third floor of the warehouse was one large dining pavilion with twelve tables 50 to 60 feet long lining the floor. It actually looked like an Oxford dining hall if Oxford were a weird indie, DIY college: the tables were all hand-carved and the furniture that aligned the walls – couches, chairs, a ping-pong table – looked like it'd been re-furnished from other people's trash and re-painted so that each piece hardly clashed. On one of the walls, it looked like someone had wanted to mount a buck's head, but had been shot down –  _ha –_ by their peers. A realistic deer's head and mounting post had been hand-painted right on the wall and then graffiti'd over such that the deer now had white X's over its eyes. Above it in the same white paint read: There Are Casualties in War, Not in Peace. Percy wondered if it had been made by an angry vegan.*

However, despite the wall art, the place did have a comfortable atmosphere to it, which Percy wouldn't have expected from a Viking camp. To make things even better: with the Lammas decorations, it felt a lot like Thanksgiving. The demigods around him all seemed to buzz with a cheerful excitement despite the fact that it wasn't even their holiday. For Percy, it put some faith into Nico's plan. If this was the way that other demigods responded to different cultures and gods, maybe a uniting of the camps  _was_ possible.

Speaking of Nico... Maybe Percy  _did_ have a way of getting Jason's attention without coming off the wrong way. How did you let someone know you were interested in them without outright asking them out?

_Flirting_ .

And what was the best kind of flirting to use on child of a conservative, godly monarch?

_Subtle, office flirting_ .

And Nico was doing  _plenty_ of it.

As Percy took a large bowl from the strawberry-blonde girl he glanced over to where the sons of Hades and Dionysus were stringing a garland across one of the other tables. With each shift of the decoration, Nico let his fingers touch and linger on Pollux's and each time he did it Pollux would give a tiny, private smile. 

They continued like that all throughout the late afternoon, sharing tiny displays of affection that would appear invisible to anyone else if they weren't watching carefully. And Percy was watching carefully. As they began helping string the lights from the top of the walls, Pollux kept his hands unneededly close to Nico's lower back despite the fact that the son of Hades was fine on the ladder and when they were helping put food on the table and had to squeeze past each other they would exchange literal squeezes – arm-squeezes, specifically – and bumped each other playfully with their hips.

Percy categorized each action in the back of his head. He felt a little embarrassed watching a fifteen year old for flirting tips, but he wouldn't let that bother him because once the lights went out and the twinkle lights lit up with a loud cheer from the demigod crowd, Percy was feeling more determined than ever.

_Jason Grace_ , he thought,  _prepare to be wooed_ .

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * Fun fact: The deer head wasn't actually graffiti'd on by an angry vegan, but was specifically painted that way. Unlike those at Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter, despite the fact that Camp Valhalla is significantly humane in comparison to the Viking stereotype, the Viking demigods don't hesitate to kill another person in battle. However, that's only in battle. The wall art reminds the camp that outside of war the death of a person is not a casualty, but murder.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not that long of a chapter, I'm sorry, but I figured I needed at least some kind of update despite having started school. Hope you guys enjoy it okay anyway!

“Are you feeling okay?”

Jason looked up from where he was trying to untangle the twinkle lights for the _Lammas_ celebration to find Pryderi standing – no, _hovering_ – in front of him, eyes bright green and glowing. If he hadn’t been around Hazel in order to recognize magic when he saw it, Jason probably would’ve run for the hills.

“I’m fine,” he said and pulled one of the lights free from the jumble in his hands. He watched Pryderi slowly settle to the ground in his peripheral vision.

“You don’t look fine,” the other demigod said slowly.

Jason couldn’t disagree. He felt like his entire world had been turned upside down since that morning and it just kept turning and turning and turning.

Learning the Greek gods were real and that they had a camp in New York was one thing. If anything, it actually made sense. The Greeks were the precursor to the Romans, at least, in terms of deities and myths and it wasn’t like your culture disappeared just because you’d been adopted. But the Norse? The Celts? The Hindu? Jason’s brain was still trying to comprehend that. His _stomach_ was still trying to comprehend the _Bifrost_. And now, on top of all of that was Percy who, for some reason, had thought that he and Nico had been dating.

How that idea got into his head Jason didn’t even know. Nico was like a little brother to him not to mention _fifteen_ (not that his age mattered much anyway seeing as – at least, according to his embarrassing confrontation with Pollux – Nico was asexual).

But what was more, the look Percy had given him when he learned Jason wasn’t with anyone spoke more to him than Percy himself had in the past _year_. That look had begun to water the vague hope beginning to grow in the pit of Jason’s stomach, but each time it turned its leaves to the sun Jason tried to crush it. He knew Percy wasn’t into men. That much had been made clear when Percy shoved him away that night on his birthday; Jason had never seen someone look so horrified, not that Jason was in the right to have kissed Percy that night anyway what with Percy having been going through what he was going through.

Something cold touched his arm, jerking Jason from his thoughts.

Pryderi smirked and held a water bottle out to him. Jason took it gratefully, putting the clump of twinkle lights between his thighs to hold.

He had met Pryderi when Noah took him to the warehouse roof to show him where the Argo II would be taken care of. The ship had landed as Noah had said it would and a plethora of the Norse demigods had already gathered around it to work on the gaping holes that made up the Argo II’s sides. They’d been completely torn to pieces. His stomach dropping at the sight, Jason had been sure they would end up staying at Camp Valhalla for _weeks_ , but Noah assured him it would take only a few days if not two.

“Two?” Jason had asked incredulously.

Noah nodded once and gave Jason a smug look. “I told you we’re an innovative people.”

Jason would give him that.

It was then that a younger demigod of maybe sixteen came up to them, their black hair a mess as if a giant had spat into its hand and tousled it. “The sun’ll be setting soon,” the demigod had said to Noah and Jason had never heard a Boston accent so thick before. “We should probably start setting up now.”

“Setting up for what?” Jason had asked.

“ _Lammas_ ,” Noah had answered.

“What’s Llamas?”

 _Lammas_ turned out to be a Celtic harvest festival, which Camp Valhalla was hosting in honor of the Celtic demigods who had offered to fight for them during the Ragnorok and who were currently stationed at Camp Valhalla itself. “The world is a diverse place,” Noah had explained to him. “Each culture and each pantheon of gods and goddesses should be respected. We want our camp to reflect that.” Pryderi was one of those Celtic demigods, a child of Angus and a druid-but-not-a-druid.

“ I prefer ‘magician’ over ‘druid,’” Pryderi had explained as they pulled boxes of decorations from a small closet that for some reason never seemed to empty.

“Because ‘druid’ has Christian connotations?” Jason had asked.

Pryderi had laughed. “That too. But mostly because it’s a gendered word.”

Jason was starting to understand why Nico liked Camp Valhalla so much. Respect wasn’t earned, it was expected, and although hundreds of demigods surged around him like tadpoles in a pond Jason couldn’t help but feel as if he were on the campus of some small town college where everyone knew everyone. There were unisex bathrooms on every floor, prayer rooms for certain religions that needed a private space, a large fire pit where rituals and sacrifices could be made.

And yet...

It provided evidence that demigods from different cultures could get along, but didn’t provide evidence regarding the character of the Vikings. Jason knew the history of the Germanic tribes and the Scandinavian gods. He refused to believe that simply by moving to Canada their violent nature had been wiped clean. Noah’s arm wasn’t missing because of a birth defect; the scar tissue at the end of it was awful regardless of the tattoos that covered it in swirls of blue ink. If Jason knew about scar tissue, which he did, it had been _torn off_. And _that_ didn’t happen by living in a peaceful Camp.

He tried to rebuke himself. After all, who was he to judge? The Romans may be civil, but they weren’t peaceful by any means. And a missing arm could’ve easily have been caused by a monster, especially if Camp Valhalla was stationed in a major city. But Jason couldn’t brush off the feeling. Did he really want to convince Camp Jupiter to fight for these people?

The thought stayed in Jason’s mind as Pryderi helped him with the lights and the _Lammas_ decorations around them finally began to take shape. As the sun disappeared behind the buildings outside the windows, the only light remaining in the grand, dining hall were the orange and yellow twinkle lights now hanging from the walls and the tall candles sitting along the tables, which had been set and covered in food by the other demigods.

The food wasn’t extravagant by any means: pots of Spaghetti, ramen noodle cups, salads, potato chips, gluten free ginger snaps, Kosher hot dogs, egg salad, cereal. It was a selection of food that Jason would’ve expected on the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving Special, but at the same time it was sort of humanizing. With the speed of their shipbuilding skills and the grand scheme of the warehouse, Camp Valhalla almost seemed like a dream. Seeing what the demigods actually ate made it seem more...

Poverty-stricken.

“You want to sit with me?” Pryderi asked over the sudden wave of noise as campers took their seats. “You’ll have a front row seat for the ceremony.”

Jason opened his mouth to say “yes,” curious to experience Celtic magic up close and personal, when something stopped him.

No, not something.

Some _one_.

Imagine being in a crowded room and making eye contact with someone you’ve known for a long time, someone you have feelings for, whom you’ve slowly begun to imagine has feelings for you too.

Feels kind of nice, right?

Do you feel warm?

Jittery?

Now imagine being in a crowded room and making eye contact with someone you’ve known for a long time, someone you have feelings for, whom you’ve slowly begun to imagine has feelings for you too, and they’re staring at you like they want to _murder_ you.

That’s _weird_ , right?

And yet Percy was staring at him from across the room with eyes that looked like he was dreaming of peeling Jason’s skin off and wearing it as a coat.

Startled, Jason frowned and lipped, ‘Are you okay?’ But his response was only a look of confusion followed by an even more murderous stare, this time with lowered eyebrows.

“Is that your friend?” Pryderi asked, sounding just as bemused as Jason felt.

“I... Yeah.”

“What is he-?”

“I don’t know.”

Luckily, whatever it was had been put to a stop when Pollux whispered something in Percy’s ear that made the son of Poseidon blush so hot he broke eye-contact with Jason like a fish cutting a line and sit down so fast he nearly flipped a ramen noodle cup. Pollux gave an awkward smile and wave to Jason, which Jason awkwardly returned.

But that was only the start of what was to be a very strange, very confusing night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urban Dictionary Definition:  
> Care Bear Stare  
> The often intimidating gaze of undivided lust issued by a gay man towards his prey. Characteristics include upright posture, an inflated chest, a forward-titled head, upward gaze and nothing less than a Mona Lisa smile.


	29. Chapter 29

Counter to Jason’s thinking, Pryderi didn’t actually cast any spells. They weren’t even the one leading the ceremony. Instead, when everyone took their seats, a girl moved to stand by the ping-pong table, her face set like she was ready for business. She looked a lot like Hazel, Jason thought. It was that younger-sister-who-could-kill-you look except Hazel didn’t have an orange mohawk.

“Thank you all for joining us this evening,” she said. “I know many of you – well, probably all of you – have never celebrated Lammas before, so I – _we_ – really appreciate you helping us set up and coming to celebrate with us.” Her eyes swept the crowd before they seemed to settle on Jason, making him tense. Did he have something on his face? But she was looking at the girl across from him, who gave a nod of encouragement. The small action seemed to strengthen her resolve; her back straightened.

“Lammas is a festival of farewells,” she began again. “Of regrets, of the harvest, and of preservation. As children of the gods and as wielders of the gods’ power, many of us have been forced to grow up too quickly. Others were never able to grow up at all.” The atmosphere of the room seemed to change at her words. Many of the campers around Jason looked down at their hands. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Nico and Pollux shift closer to one another. “Usually this ceremony is done around a bon-fire, but because the Ritual Room is too small to fit us all,” she gave a small laugh that lightened the mood a little, “we’ve provided candles. In front of each of you is a slip of paper.” Jason glanced down and there was, in fact, a small piece of paper there. He had thought it was a napkin. “If you would like to participate,” the girl said, “it’s customary to write down your regrets on Lammas and to burn the paper. Traditionally, a corn husk is used, but corn is expensive.” That earned a good laugh through the hall and the girl smiled. Jason figured Camp Valhalla’s expenses were some kind of running joke.

“So if you wish to join me,” she continued, “please take a pencil from one of our members and take a few minutes to write down your thoughts on your paper. As a show of respect to one another, I ask for you not to look at your neighbor’s paper. This is a private ritual. Thank you.”

The room was quiet as Pryderi, the girl across from Jason, and five other teenagers stood from the table, a box of sharpened pencils in each of their hands. When they returned to their seats the only sound that could be heard were honks from the traffic outside, the wind, and the scratching of pencils. To his left, he heard someone whisper to a friend how to spell something.

Jason pondered his paper, considering a plethora of possibilities, but of course his brain kept drifting back to Percy. His eyes lifted to find the brunet amongst the rainbow of hair colors surrounding him. Percy was scribbling at his own paper, looking pensive, his eyebrows drawn together like they did when he was upset. Jason wondered what he was thinking about. He wondered what had caused Percy to look at him the way he had earlier. Chewing his lip, he looked back down at the table. Regrets...

 _Forcing myself on Percy_ , he wrote slowly.

Then, _Trying to get him to do something he wasn’t ready to do._

_Making something about me that wasn’t about me._

_Thinking depression could be cured by hanging out with people._

_Being mad at Percy for running._

He stared at the paper.

_~~Being mad at Percy for running~~._

That was better.

 _Not talking to Piper more_. He needed to do that. He missed her a lot.

 _Telling Pollux he shouldn’t be fucking Nico._ Jason’s face burned at the memory still fresh from earlier that afternoon. What was worse was that after clarifying that they didn’t have sex, Pollux had given Jason a critical look and asked, “What makes you think Nico would be bottoming?” At least the son of Dionysus had been nice enough to offer him a change of clothes.

 _Not being more in contact with Reyna_. Now _that_ was a regret that Jason was determined to amend when they finished the quest. He hadn’t really spoken to her since the end of the war, his mind having been caught up in... but really it was no excuse. Reyna had been one of his best friends at Camp Jupiter, his partner on the battlefield, his second half in strategy. If Annabeth could correspond easily enough between the two camps in order to bridge ties, then he could too. But still, something in the pit of his stomach twisted at the thought of seeing Camp Jupiter again. Having chose Greek, he felt those who had been his friends, who had admired him and voted him praetor, would see him as a traitor despite Camp Half-Blood being their ally now. He wondered briefly if that fear would ever go away.

Satisfied with his paper, Jason set his pencil down on the table and glanced around, careful not to catch sight of anyone else’s writing. Nico was done, his hands folded in front of him, staring up and out the large ceiling-to-floor window across the room. The lights from the buildings below made the scene into a kind of industrial night sky. Percy had finished, too, but his face was still contorted in a frown, looking at his hands. Pollux was still writing, as were several other demigods.

When everyone had finished each slip of paper was placed one by one beside a candle light and set aflame, burning in the open air before being set down on the table surface and placed under an empty goblet to safely burn to ashes.

Turning the goblet over to cover the slips of paper, Jason felt lighter and when the girl with the orange mohawk stood again in front of the ping-pong table, he looked to her expectantly.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now if you’ll turn your attention to the center table...” Everyone shifted to look including those who were actually sitting at the center table, glancing at each other curiously. “To honor the gods and goddesses of the grain, it is, again, customary to bake a loaf of bread.” At the mention of bread everyone’s eyes found something to stare at: the strange looking tan lump on a plate at the far end of the table. “The source for the flour, while kneading the dough, has been honored and we thank the god Lugh and the goddess Anu-“

“Bless you,” Percy said. Nico punched him in the arm.

“-for the harvest we are about to enjoy. The bread may be shaped into the form of a man or a woman and given a name. In honor of our Norse hosts whom we are extremely grateful, we name our bread Freyja.” A soft murmur went through the room. Jason saw a few campers brighten. “And as an offering of peace and alliance with our camp we give the first of the bread to Lady Aaliyah.”

Jason straightened up at the name. Pryderi had mentioned someone named Aaliyah would be returning from some mission; she was the head, the leader of Camp Valhalla, and a daughter of Odin. He followed the eyes of the other campers to a young woman at the head of the center table. She was dressed in a fur cloak like Noah’s, but instead of a Minnesota Vikings jersey beneath it, she wore a sewn, ankle-length dress attached to the cloak with a tri-lobed brooch. Her hair was long, tied back in braids and pulled into a bun against her neck. On her right sat a boy Jason would have mistook for Noah if he hadn’t had both of his arms. Jason wondered if they were brothers.

“Thank you, Ginnie,” Aaliyah said, her lips curving into a gentle smile. She turned her head to Jason’s table, to the other Celtic demigods. “And thank you all. Your alliance we accept humbly and with great honor and respect.” She reached forward and tore a piece of the bread from the lump. She raised it above her head. “To the gods.”

“To the gods,” echoed the room.

Aaliyah ate the bread.

There was a resounding pause amongst the campers and Jason knew what they were waiting for: was the bread poisoned or not? The boy who looked like Noah appeared the most distressed, his entire body rigid in his seat. But Aaliyah remained alive and at last the campers exploded in a roar of applause. Juice was poured. Someone opened a flask. Cups were raised.

“To the gods!” Ginnie exclaimed.

“TO THE GODS!”


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for brief mention of rape regarding Zeus.

The rest of the night went well from there. The bread was passed around from person to person until each demigod, druid, and magician had taken a piece. Jason was worried that by eating it he was guaranteeing an alliance with the Celtics, but Pryderi assured him that it was merely ceremonial. What mattered was that _Aaliyah_ had eaten from the bread; it meant she trusted them, a trait fiercely needed in war.

“But are you sure you should be going to war for them in the first place?” Jason asked. He cast a glance sideways to be sure the Norse demigods at the table couldn’t hear him. “I mean no offense, but I just... Vikings, you know?”

But despite his nervous suspicions, Pryderi gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “We all have prejudices we carry with us to new places,” they said after a moment. “Honestly, if you stay a while, you’ll learn different. The Vikings were a cruel people; that’s something history can’t erase. But Camp Valhalla isn’t... It’s not...” They waved their hands in front of them, trying to gesticulate, and nearly elbowed the girl across from Jason, whose name he had learned was Nessa, in the face. Pryderi spluttered an apology she didn't accept before facing Jason again. “I mean they’re not really _Viking_ Vikings, you know? Like their parents are Viking Vikings, but they’re not their parents any more than you are yours. I mean you’re a son of Zeus, right?”

“Jupiter.”

They lowered their voice. “And do you go around raping women and killing people?”

Jason flushed. “No.”

“Exactly, because you’re not your father. Just like Camp Valhalla isn’t the Vikings.”

Jason thought of that. He looked over to the center table again where Aaliyah was laughing with her campmates. Maybe Camp Valhalla wasn’t a wolf in sheep’s clothing after all. But there was still something that was bothering him.

“Who’s that guy?” he asked, pointing with his little finger toward the scowling Noah-look-alike. He wondered if the dude’s face was stuck like that.

“Who?” Pryderi asked, trying to look over their shoulder inconspicuously and failing so, so hard.

“Next to Aaliyah.”

“Oh, that’s Manny. Noah’s little brother.”

“Why does he look like he wants to die?”

Pryderi choked on a laugh. “That’s just his-- He’s just watching out for Aaliyah.”

“What for? Are they dating?”

“He wishes. Nah, he’s her bodyguard.”

“Bodyguard?”

Pryderi nodded, lifting their plate to load up on spaghetti. “Went on duty about a year and a half ago and never went off again if my sources are correct as gossip always is.”

It was Jason’s turn to snort, but he quickly turned serious again. A year and a half ago was around the time Nico had first started disappearing somewhere. Hadn’t the son of Hades said something on the _Skidbladnir_ about it? _I helped him find and rescue his brother from a monster._ “Do you know why?”

Pryderi shrugged. “Before my time. But I don’t see why Aaliyah would need a bodyguard anyway.”

“Maybe _she’s_ guarding _him_ ,” Jason said, watching the couple.

But Pryderi shrugged again. “Like I said, before my time. I only know the rumors.”

“I thought gossip was always correct?”

Pryderi twirled a ridiculous amount of spaghetti around their fork before leveling their gaze with Jason’s. “Supposedly she has him under watch. But not to protect him.”

“Why then?”

“Rumor has it he’s not actually a demigod.”

“What else would he be?”

Pryderi lowered their voice. “A child of Hati Hróðvitnisson.”

Jason frowned. “Who?”

“A wolf monster that chases the moon in Norse mythology. His father is Fenrir, the great wolf. Prophecy says that when he breaks free from his chains he’ll start the Ragnorok by killing Odin.”

“But Odin’s a god,” Jason said, confused.

Pryderi shook their head. “Not all gods are immortal.”

Jason guessed they were right. Hadn’t Pan and Aesclepius died in Greek Mythology? “So they think Manny will, what? Find some way to free Fenrir? Grandpa’s orders?”

“Apparently. I can’t even say I blame them for thinking as much.”

“Why?”

Pryderi plopped a large meatball onto their plate, making the sauce spatter. “Because a year and a half ago when Aaliyah made Manny her bodyguard after some quest?”

“Yeah?”

They lowered their voice to nothing but a rasp, their eyes dark. “ _Noah came back missing an arm_.” The sentence hung heavily between them. 

And then Pryderi sat upright, face bright again. “But like I said, before my time. Couldn’t tell you.”

Jason stared, but before he could open his mouth-

“Hey.”

Someone touched Jason’s arm and he turned.

Percy was standing incredibly close; Jason could feel his breath on his hair. From the angle he was sitting, too, he had a view of Percy’s neck, tan and sloping down to his collarbone. “I was wondering if I could borrow the salt?”

“The what?”

“The salt.”

“Oh. The...” Jason tore his eyes away and scanned the table in a flurry only for his ears to go red when Pryderi handed the salt to him, a small smirk on their face. “Here.”

“Thanks.” His fingertips ghosted along the length of Jason’s arm as he pulled away to walk back to his own table. The action sent Jason’s hair on end and his eyes followed the son of Poseidon until he sat down, brain going a mile a minute.

“What in Pluto was that?” Jason whispered.

“Gay is what it was,” Pryderi managed to choke through a series of stifled giggles.

“Shut up. No. That doesn’t make sense.”

“Why wouldn’t it make sense?”

“You saw him earlier, he was looking at me like he wanted to kill me. He’s... He’s not even into guys. He had a girlfriend he was head over heels for. He wasn’t even speaking to me because... Or I wasn’t speaking to _him_ because... I kissed him.”

Pryderi’s eyebrows went up.

“He hated me.”

They went up higher.

“I mean, I _thought_... I mean... He’s _straight_.”

“People can be bisexual, let’s not be monosexist here.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just. I thought he...” Jason put his head in his hands, staring down at the table.

“Are you really having an existential crisis over a guy wanting your genitals?” Pryderi asked.

“Show me your genitals,” Nessa sung quietly beside them.

“ _Genitalia_ ,” Ginnie added, grinning.

“It’s not a crisis about a guy wanting me, it’s about _him_ wanting me,” Jason spluttered. “If he even _does_. I mean, he could just have been asking for the salt. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.”

The looks from all three Celts told him otherwise.

“He wants your dick,” Nessa told him emphatically.

“Or your vagina,” Pryderi said.

Jason raked his fingers through his hair, cheeks burning. Could they be right? Or _was_ he really reading too much into it?

He thought of the soft look on Percy’s face after he’d returned from a year of being gone, meeting Jason’s eyes in the Big House during the counselor meeting. “Hey,” he had said. _Hey._ Jason had been _pissed._ But... _Percy_ hadn’t been pissed. Percy had been... hopeful? And the look on his face when he had learned Jason and Nico weren’t dating...?

Jason looked over at Percy again, questioning. The hope in the pit of his stomach was budding, threatening to flower. Did he dare even think of there being a possibility? It felt way too good to be true.

But as if to answer his question, Percy met his gaze, eyes hooded and a small smile hooked on his lips. Suddenly the murderous look earlier made sense: Percy had been trying to be seductive. He would have to save that hilarious fact for later. As for now, the hope in his stomach burst into a small sunflower and, his cheeks heating, Jason looked swiftly down at the table before Percy could catch him grinning.

“He wants my vagina,” Jason agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Ginnie and Nessa are singing is a real song, I'm not crazy. Google that shit.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus!
> 
> I hadn't been feeling too great about this fic and I'm still not too fond of it and wish I could make it better, but I'm working with what I've got.
> 
> Ontop of that, my mom passed away around Christmas, so that kind of added to the disinterest in writing. However, in case you need some Jercy while this fic is still put-put-ing along, I've published a Hanukkah fic in my works.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“Hey.”

Percy stopped his toothbrush and looked up into the bathroom mirror. Jason stood behind him in the doorway, his arms folded as he leaned against the frame watching him with a look Percy couldn’t read.

The Lammas dinner had ended well enough with demigods rinsing off plates together and waddling off to bed with full stomaches and faces pink with joy.

Percy had been catching Jason's eye since he'd touched his arm, giving tiny smiles here and there and making Jason flush.

He spat into the sink and wiped his mouth. “Hey.”

“I think–“ Jason shifted against the frame. “We need to talk.”

Percy turned and leaned against the sink. “I’m listening.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before Jason let out a shuddering breath. “I’m not sorry I kissed you a year ago.” He cast his eyes to the ground. “But I am sorry for putting you in that kind of position, for pushing you to do something you didn’t want to do when you were,” he waved his hand in front of him, “vulnerable. I know depression isn’t something that can be fixed like a light-switch. I didn’t mean to– But I did. Act like an ass to you. So, I’m sorry. Immensely. I just– want to start talking to you again.” He met Percy’s eyes. “I miss you.”

Percy held his gaze, but then looked to the floor. “I’m sorry for disappearing.” He tried to stop his leg from jiggling. “I know you were scared I was... that I was going to–”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t even think that you might’ve thought I... I didn’t mean to worry anyone, it just wasn’t... I could blame it on the ADHD, but...” He jerked his foot against the tile. Why couldn’t his words come out the way he wanted them to? “I just didn’t want to talk to anyone. It– The depression wasn’t just about Annabeth, Jason.”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t been the same since Tartarus, Jason, you know that,” Percy whispered. “Everybody knows that. Leo wouldn’t stop teasing me about that one nightmare–”

“I thought I told him–”

“As if Leo would listen to anyone.” Percy closed his eyes. “I’m so scared of becoming Luke it’s been hindering my powers.” He raked his nails across his arm. “Not Luke like– Like before. But when he was possessed by Kronos. I know you didn’t know him, but he gave into something pretty dark to get what he wanted. I don’t want to be like that.”

“You won’t be.”

“No, Jason, you don’t get it. I did things in Tartarus, things... The way Annabeth looked at me, Jason– There’s no way you’d want me anymore after I told you.”

Jason was quiet, but Percy refused to look up at his face, to see the expression there. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it. He brought his hand up to his neck, fingering at the light, gold chain there until he was twisting at the small, gold star at the end of it. His leg couldn’t stop moving.

“Earlier tonight,” Jason finally said, “you seemed... pretty interested in me.”

Percy stilled.

“Are you still interested?”

Percy looked up.

Jason’s eyes were soft, kind.

“Yeah.”

“Then what you did in Tartarus doesn’t matter to me.”

Percy’s face soured. “You can’t just–”

“Of course I can.” Jason gave him a smug smile. “It’s called forgiveness.”

His throat suddenly felt constricted. “Shut up. That’s not– You can’t– You can’t just forgive the sin without hearing it.”

“It’s a good thing I’m a pagan, then,” Jason said, smile growing wider as he stepped forward. Then the smile disappeared. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s–“

“It’s not okay. Alright, it’s not okay. But you’re okay. You’re here with me. You’re not a monster. You’re okay. Breathe.”

Percy gave a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. He felt the sink against his back and tried to relax, tried to name in his head the things he could feel: sink, floor, necklace. The things he could hear: the pipes, Jason’s breathing, Pollux’s faint snoring. He opened his eyes; the things he could see: Jason’s shirt, Jason’s lips, Jason’s eyes.

Everything felt a little more real again.

“I know you can’t really go down to Tartarus and apologize for whatever it is you did,” Jason said slowly. “Which is good. That’d make for a pretty violent Yom Kippur.”

Percy choked on a laugh.

Jason smiled. “So... will my forgiveness for whatever you did suffice?”

“You have no idea how religion works.”

“Nope.”

“You’re lucky I like you.”

“Yeah,” Jason said and he leaned down, “I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earlier in the fic I had said Percy's grandmother was Jewish, but I went back and changed the lines because I wanted Percy's Jewish background to be an actual thing, hence the necklace mentioned here and Jason's reference to Yom Kippur.


	32. Chapter 32

Percy felt the kiss down to his toes.

With a shaky breath let out through his nose, he brought his hands up to hold Jason’s face.

It was... surreal, to say the least now that he wasn’t uncomfortable.

He could feel Jason’s jaw moving, sharper and thicker than Annabeth’s. He could feel faint stubble on Jason’s chin scratching at the sides of his mouth. He could feel Jason’s chest press forward against his, the soft firmness of the muscle there.

Percy let out a groan and pulled their mouths away. “Fucking,” Percy sighed against Jason’s lips, “bisexual.”

Jason’s eyebrows pinched together, licking his lips. “What?”

“Nothing– Just. How– How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Doing– That, with the whole fucking– the chest and–” Percy gave a quick kiss to his lips again, pulled Jason’s head more towards his. “And your everything, just–”

Jason grinned against his mouth. “First time kissing a guy, Percy?”

“Shut up,” Percy said, but he was grinning too. “Like this isn’t yours.”

“Actually, there’s something I have to tell you. Leo and I–”

“Oh my gods! Stop!” Percy laughed as Jason cracked up mid-sentence. “Leo is the last person I want to be thinking of right now.”

“Tiny mechanics not your thing?”

“I prefer praetors, to be honest.”

“I’ll be sure to let Reyna know.”

“Stop! You’re an awful human being.”

Jason beamed and gave a loud kiss to Percy’s cheek, then chased it with a lighter one. “How do you feel about sleeping together?”

Percy gave him a look. “Uhm.”

“Not,” Jason tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, “in that way. I mean in the same bed. Bunk. Area.”

“I call big spoon.”

“Good, ‘cause I was going to call little spoon.”

“And that’s what makes us compatible.”

Jason rolled his eyes, but gave Percy a fond look. “You’re not worried about anyone saying anything?”

“Why would they? Nico’s jet-packing with Pollux and no one’s laughed yet.”

“I did.”

“You’re a terrible friend.”

“There’s an _eight inch difference_.”

“This just in: alleged social activist, Jason Grace, finds dwarfism hilarious.”

“You’re such a _weenie_.”

“I _know_ you did not just squeeze my si– _Jason Grace I swear to PoseiHAHAHA–!”_

“Ow!”

“Sorry!”

“He says _smirking_.”

“I’m not smirking! How is this smirking?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot your default face is ‘manic serial killer.’”

“You’re a jerk.”

“So are you.”

They smiled at each other, foreheads touching, and Percy’s heart for the first time in a while felt light again. He might not have felt for Jason the way he felt for Annabeth, but he was willing to let his feelings grow. He was willing to try.

“I like you,” Percy said in a low voice.

“I like you too.”

“Even though you’re an asshole.”

Jason snorted, making Percy grin wide. “I take it back, I don’t like you at all.”

“Nuh-uh, no take backs.”

Jason’s retort was swallowed by Percy’s kiss, but he didn’t seem to mind, humming instead against Percy’s lips and sinking into it. “I could get used to doing that,” Percy murmured when they broke apart again.

“I hope so,” Jason said albeit a little breathlessly. “’Cause I plan on doing a lot of it.”

“Someone’s ambitious.”

“Not ambitious, just– In like-like with you.”

“In _like-like_ , good _lords_.”

“I figured if we were doing ‘no take backs’ then I should use a language you understand.”

Percy bit Jason’s lower lip. “Dork. Come on, I have the bunk next to David and Goliath.”

Jason choked on a laugh, smiling as Percy took his hand and led him out of the bathroom.

Percy had no nightmares that night.


	33. Chapter 33

Upon waking up, Percy was happy to learn Camp Valhalla wasn't as stern with eating times as Camp Half-Blood or Camp Jupiter.

Nico explained to him while they brushed their teeth together in the shared bathroom that the only set eating time was dinner at six.

Percy spat into the sink. “Why only dinner?”

“A lot of the demigods here still attend High School,” Nico said. “A few of them college. A greater number have jobs. They train when they can and are together when they can be.”

Percy frowned. “But doesn't that, I don't know, hinder them as an army?”

“You need money to run an army,” Nico said around his toothbrush.

“What about the gods?”

“What about them?”

“Can't they bless the warehouse or something? Like Camp Half-Blood?”

Nico rinsed before answering. “The Greeks are cruel,” he said and Percy blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected something like that to come out of him; Nico was always respectful to the immortals. “They abandon their children and test their abilities regularly to see if they're worthy of their parentage.” Nico's eyebrows went up a little, challenging him. “Do you disagree?”

Percy thought of the quests that interrupted his dates with Annabeth, that took him away from school and kept him from any chance at a normal human life, that threatened his sanity and his life countless times. “No.”

Nico held his gaze, then looked away and wiped his mouth on a handtowel. “The Norse are worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm sure you've heard the rumors about Manny.”

Percy thought of what Pollux had said of Noah's younger brother. “That he's the child of a wolf.”

Nico's nodded once. “His father placed him in Noah's family as a changeling to kill Noah before he could grow to be a warrior, so he wouldn't be able to aid the gods.”

Percy digested that. “His plan failed.”

“Manny grew up as human as the rest of us. But nature and nurture go hand in hand. The quest I told you about? The one where I met Noah? Manny had been kidnapped by Tyr, god of law and heroic glory. In mythology, the great wolf Fenrir was profecied to kill Odin and begin the Ragnorok. The gods were able to imprison him by tricking him into letting them tie a cloth around him in order to test his strength. Fenrir didn't trust the gods and told them the only way he'd allow them to bind him was if one of them placed their hand in his mouth. Tyr was that god. And when Fenrir realized he had been tricked, he tore Tyr's hand from his wrist. Do you know what the gods did when that happened?”

“Puked?” Percy guessed.

“They laughed.”

Percy stared as Nico put his toothbrush back into the holder with his name on it. “They... they laughed?”

“They laughed,” Nico agreed and tossed him one last look before heading out the door. “Imagine being a child of one of _them_.”

 

 **

 

With Nico's story in his head, Camp Valhalla suddenly took on a different light. Percy started to realize what he had thought were lavish living areas were actually rather drab. The couches showed signs of wear and tear, the wide coffee tables were carved from what looked like old, recycled wood sanded smooth. If it wasn't hand-made, it had been found or donated. Yet, strangely enough, it only made Percy feel a little bit more at home. None of the furniture in his mom's apartment had been new – they couldn't afford it – but he had never resented that and the demigods at Camp Valhalla didn't seem to either.

Many of them, like Nico had said, were gone to school, class, or work, but still there were demigods up and roaming around the warehouse in sweatpants and tank-tops, mugs of coffee or tea in their hands, some with toast, others with bowls of cereal. One of the Celtic demigods Jason had introduced him to the night before was sitting shirtless on one of the couches, a bagel in one hand and a tube of cream cheese in the other, eating so slow Percy wondered if they were even fully awake yet.

Jason chirped a happy “Morning, Pryderi” when he emerged from the staircase and the demigod vaguely raised their cream cheese in greeting. 

Jason's smile grew the closer he came to Percy and Percy knew his own lips were doing the same. “And good morning to  _you_ ,” Jason whispered when they came together. He smelled like fresh soap; his hair was still lightly damp from the shower. Percy wanted to kiss him. To make him smell how he did after a work-out: fresh sweat, musk. He wanted Jason's shoulder in his mouth.

“You're wearing a Love Pink sweatshirt,” is what Percy said instead.

“Pollux is letting me borrow his clothes,” Jason said.

“And you chose the Love Pink sweatshirt.”

“It's soft.” Jason shrugged. “And blue.”

Percy pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “We're done. You're too cute. Go on with this relationship without me.”

“Shut up,” Jason said, but he was grinning. “Nico's meeting us down in the dining hall. If that's okay with you?”

“More than okay. I want to ask Noah about how the ship's coming along.”

“He said yesterday that it should be good to go in two to three days.”

“Two to three days!?”

“Shh,” Pryderi mumbled around their cream cheese. “S'ongebob.”

“How can the ship be fixed in two to three days?” Percy asked quieter, pulling Jason's hand along to the stairs.

“Canadians are an innovative people,” Jason said.

“Their money also smells like maple syrup, but that doesn't mean they can fix a war ship in two or three days.”

“No, but it does when they're vikings.”

Percy caught a glimpse over the railing down below of the warships being built at ground level. “Maybe.”

About thirty people were eating in the dining hall although they were scattered in small groups at each table, talking amongst themselves in hushed, tired voices. Nico was sitting next to Pollux, as per usual, buttering a piece of toast while they both listened to something the girl across from them, dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and purple shayla, was saying. Not wanting to interrupt her, Percy gave the three a nod as he and Jason sat down.

“-- not the way he said it that bothered me,” the girl was saying, “but the fact that he kept talking about it like he was knowledgeable about the subject in the first place.”

“Do you want me to destroy him?” Pollux said around a spoon of fruit loops. “I'm white and cis-passing, I totally could.”

“What are we talking about?” Jason asked.

“Some douche-canoe told Mimi autistic demigods shouldn't be allowed on quests,” Pollux said.

“And when I told him he was wrong,” Mimi said, turning her body toward Jason, “he tried to talk to me as if he was an expert on autism. Do you know what he said to me? 'I have a psychology degree.'  _A psychology degree_ . Both of my siblings are somewhere on the autism spectrum, but he knows more than I do because he has a  _psychology degree_ .”

“He's not one of the camp leaders or anything, is he?” Jason asked with a frown.

Mimi shook her head. “Thankfully, no. In Sha' Allah, he will be more knowledgeable when that happens.”

“ _If_ it happens,” Pollux said. “Chuck's a child of one of the lesser Norse deities and Camp Valhalla's all about power structure. If anyone's next in line to be camp leader after Aaliyah, it's Liza.”

“Who's Liza?” Percy asked.

“A daughter of Thor,” Nico answered, “and Aaliyah's second in command.”

“I didn't see a girl sitting next to her last night.”

“She's visiting her family in the Philippines,” Mimi said. “Her grandmother passed away.”

Pollux let out a loud gasp, startling Jason beside him. “Lola Malaya?”

“You know Liza's grandma?” Nico asked.

“She was skyping with her in the kitchen a month ago when I was up here visiting you,” Pollux said, wilting in his seat. “She was so nice.”

Nico reached over and interlaced their fingers, squeezing Pollux's hand. Pollux squeezed back.

“She'll be back next week,” Mimi said with a short nod, “if you wanted to give her your condelences then.”

“I can't,” Pollux said. “I'm going back to New York with Nico once the Argo II is fixed. I have a show this weekend.”

Percy blinked and looked at Jason, but Jason looked just as surprised. Nico hadn't mentioned anything about bringing Pollux back with them. Nico seemed to know that too. He sunk down a bit in his seat so that Pollux's broad shoulders obscured him.

“A show?” Mimi was asking, reaching for a small packet of jam to spread on her toast. “You got a part?”

Pollux flushed. “No. Just technical stuff.”

“Speaking of technical stuff.” Nico leaned across the table so Percy and Jason could see him again. “Aaliyah wants to speak to you guys.”

Percy pressed his leg to Jason's, the hairs rising on his arms. “Why?”

“I think you know why.”

Percy did.

 


	34. Chapter 34

“Sit down, boys.”

Percy sat down in one of the two metal foldout chairs on the other side of Aaliyah’s desk. The camp leader’s “office” was surprisingly comfortable if a little unconventional. Her desk and battle plans were in the same area as her bed, a dressed mattress on a box spring against the far wall. Manny was sitting on the edge of the bed, strangely unperturbed for a bodyguard, his nose buried in a thick book. The whole thing reminded Percy of a photo in a college pamphlet.

“You want to know if we’re willing to help your camp,” Jason said as he sat down.

Aaliyah met his eyes. Her hair had been taken out of its bun from the previous night and her micro-braids were unwoven so that her hair hung about her like a dark halo. “Yes,” she said. “And no.”

Percy frowned a little. “Sorry, what?”

Aaliyah leaned back in her chair and although she crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes were unwavering. No move for casualty would change her authority. “The Ragnorok will come. This isn’t something that’s preventable. This isn’t Kronos or Gaea. This is not an individual, but an unconscious force of nature all on its own. A demigod can fight Mother Earth, but she cannot fight the earth.”

“Is this some kind of philosophy?” Percy asked, feeling awkward. “Because I’m not understand–”

“The Ragnarok, according to Snorri Sturluson whose _Prose Edda_ is the main source of Norse and Scandinavian Mythology, doesn’t come in the release of Fenrir, although his release will happen and he will, inevitably, cause the destruction of my father. The Ragnarok will begin in the form of a storm.”

“A storm?” Jason asked, leaning forward.

“Winters in Canada are always harsh,” Aaliyah said. “But this one will be unlike any other. According to prophecy, it will last for three years and the world will erupt into war.”

“The world’s already at war,” Percy pointed out, but Aaliyah shook her head, making him swallow. “You mean like World War III?”

“Fjalar, the red rooster,” Aaliyah continued, “will awaken the frost giants, the gods, and the dead and the final battle of the world will begin then. Many will die including the gods. Vidar and Vali, my brothers, will survive and inherit the kingdom of the gods alongside my cousins, Magni and Modi. Two humans, Lif and Liftraser, will survive to re-populate the earth again. This battle cannot be won with the help of any camp. Not even yours.”

“Then why are you even talking to us?” Jason asked. His face was pinched in a deep frown, his hands clasped between his knees.

Aaliyah met his eyes again. “Because I know another way.”

“But you just said–”

“I know what I said. One of the signs of the start of Ragnarok is the rising of Baldr, god of light and purity. If we can keep from rising from the dead, we might be able to stop the Ragnorok.”

“Or we could just kill the red chicken,” Percy said. “I mean that would be easier.”

“Fjalar is all-knowing,” Aaliyah disagreed. “He would know our plan before we knew our plan.”

 “Wait,” Jason said, cutting the air in front of him with his hand. “Is this why Nico is here?”

“Originally, no,” Aaliyah said. “I have been told he transported himself to our camp accidentally where he met my lieutenant, Noah.” Her eyes darted over to Manny whose back, Percy noticed, had stiffened. “Noah was... distressed given that his brother had been taken by Tyr, our version of Athena if you will, and so he took whatever help he could get. That help, incidentally, took the form of your friend. After Manny was safely returned, Nico left again to help your camps settle their own unfortunate feud–” her words sounded like a verbal eye-roll “–before returning to us. He fancied himself an ambassador. He enjoys our camp and is protective of it. He desires to be useful. I plan to make use of him.”

“How?” Jason asked, shaking his head. “If Nico kills Baldr, even in the Underworld, or whatever you guys have for an afterlife, won’t that just start the Ragnorok anyway?”

“Niflheim,” Aaliyah said, “is run by the goddess, Hel.”

“She sounds nice,” Percy quipped.

“She and her servants, according to prophecy, will play a key roll in the resurrection of Baldr. Nico is able to travel to the Underworld and back unlike any demigod from any pantheon. If he is willing, he will travel to Niflheim with the strongest delegations from each camp. _That_ is why I have called you here. Each pantheon has its demigods and magicians and each is different in battle. Hel and her servants will be able to defeat us easily; she knows the Norse. But she does not know the Greeks, the Romans, the Celts, the Hindu, the Sikh. The list goes on.”

“So you don’t need the whole of our camps,” Jason said, “just us?”

“No,” Aaliyah said, “although I appreciate your sense of self-confidence. I request your camp’s most powerful demigods. This includes you, Jason Grace, and you, Percy Jackson, but also Annabeth Chase, Piper McLean, Clarisse LaRue, Reyna Avila Ramirez Arellano, Hazel Levesque, and Frank Zhang. Pollux Mischenko has already volunteered.”

“You know all of their names?”

“Of course. Nico is an ambassador, not a pet.”

“Wait. What about Leo?”

“We have enough engineers,” Aaliyah said, but the way she said it made Percy wonder what Nico had told her. “I understand you will need time to think this over. If your, and your friends’, answer is yes you will secure a great advantage for us. However, if your answer is no, don't think your absence will guarantee our failure. This is real life, not a boy’s monomyth. We _can_ do this without you.”

“Why do I feel like the next line that’s going to come out of your mouth is going to be something from the Iliad?” Percy said, squinting his eyes. "This is the battle of the century, you will go down with glory and honor, blah blah blah."

Aaliyah smiled, her eyes alight with a dark kind of humor. “Just think on it.”


	35. Chapter 35

“What do you think?” Percy asked.

They'd retreated back to the third floor where all the bunks were arranged in neat rows, Percy sitting on their bed and Jason sitting across from him on Pollux and Nico's. Jason had his hands clasped between his knees and his face was down-turned in his signature Praetor expression. Percy imagined his own face looked the same. He didn't know what to make of Aaliyah's request, but at the same time he couldn't imagine himself sitting still at Camp Half-Blood awaiting an endless winter followed by the end of the world. It wasn't in his nature. And he knew by the wrinkle between Jason's brows that it wasn't in the son of Jupiter's either.

Jason let out a sigh and reached forward, settling his hand on Percy's jiggling knee and then giving a small smile when the other knee started to jiggle in its stead. It reminded Percy of Annabeth, her gray eyes amused despite her frown when Percy couldn't sit still on her bed.

“I'm tired of war,” Jason said quietly. “And battle. I just... I mean it's been a year, but I still...”

“You've done your fair share of service,” Percy said for him and Jason gave a single nod.

“I don't want to sound selfish by saying I don't want to help. But I'm tired of being scared my friends will die. I mean, granted, Leo's death was a lie, but it's not like we knew it at the time and.... I can't imagine if that were you.”

“I can,” Percy said, glancing up at the ceiling. He recalled the time he came back from Ogygia only to happen upon his own funeral. Talk about awkward.

“You know what I mean,” Jason said, squeezing Percy's knee. “This whole thing just started. I don't want to lose you before we can even see where it goes.”

“I know,” Percy said gently, looking back down and meeting Jason's eyes. “But we're demigods, Jason. And not just any demigods. We're sons of Zeus--”

“Jupiter.”

“--Jupiter, sorry. And Poseidon. There's no way we can catch a break longer than a year. If we say no to Aaliyah, there'll just be another war someplace else or some other monster or some other demigod in need of help or some other friend in danger. And besides, you've already decided.”

Jason frowned. “I did?”

“You did. By being Nico's friend.”

Jason sighed through his nose. “I guess I did, didn't I.”

“You know as well as I do they'd stand a better chance at succeeding with a higher number of demigods on their side. And Nico's fought with us plenty of times before. We wouldn't be a disadvantage.”

“You're right.”

“So what's it going to be?”

“I think you already know the answer.” Jason gave him a small smile. “But we still have to talk it over with the others when we get back to camp. Our decision isn't theirs.”

“But we also have to finish this stupid quest before we can even get back to camp,” Percy said. He flopped backwards onto the bed with a soft thump. “You said it'll be two days until the Argo II is fixed and ready to go?”

“That's what Noah said.”

“What do we do for two days?”

“We could try to figure out the rest of the prophecy,” Jason suggested. “ _Sons of Earth, Sea, and Sky, You will go North where the Varangians lie_. We're already there.”

“ _An oath kept secret must come to light, Lest Earth fall in its final fight_ ,” Percy recited.

“Nico's promise to keep Camp Valhalla a secret,” Jason clarified. “He wouldn't tell me where he'd been for the past few months and by the tattoos on the Norse demigods' necks, I'd say their location is pretty exclusive knowledge.”

“I got that from the blood on the wall leading to a secret elevator,” Percy said. “ _A golden hoop is what you'll seek, Found by the tears of a lover's weep. The Vine will right what Eros wronged, And hearts will return where they've always belonged._  So we're looking for a golden hoop, which was some game played by the Greeks. Right? That's what Katie said.”

“Found by the tears of a lover's weep,” Jason said. “A lover...”

“Did Helen play with hoops?” Percy asked.

“I don't think so,” Jason shook his head, “it was a men's sport. Bacchus had one as a baby.”

“The Vine will right what Eros wronged,” Percy said. “So we're looking for Dionysus' hoop and if we find it he'll right what Eros wronged?”

Jason shrugged. “I don't know any lovers of Bacchus. Well, I mean, I do, but none that are immortal. Aside from his wife.”

“Who else would have a hoop?” Percy asked with a groan.

There was a long pause and then Jason said, a little wonderingly, “Catamitus would.”

“Who?”

“I think the Greeks called him Ganymede.”

Percy's brain stopped short. “Ganymede... would have a hoop?”

“Catamitus-- er, Ganymede, was a Trojan prince. His mother was a naiad and he was--  _is_ considered the most beautiful of mortals. My dad had a thing for him. He courted him with a series of gifts like a large rooster and a golden hoop. Eventually, Ganymede said yes. He lives on Olympus as Jupiter's cup-bearer.”

“And lover,” Percy added quietly. He stared up at the bottom of the bed above the other bunk.

“Well, yeah, that too.”

“Hearts will return where they've always belonged,” Percy spat.

“You okay?”

Percy sat up and pulled his leg back out of Jason's grip, making Jason blink with surprise.

“What's wrong?”

“What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong. When I was gone, were you having dreams?”

“Dreams?”

“Dreams. Of me. And you. Me fucking you. Or something. Kissing you. Touching you.”

Jason's face went red. “How—”

“Ganymede,” Percy said bitterly. “I'd been having the same dreams. I couldn't stop thinking about you. Your face, your voice, everything about you, you wouldn't leave me alone.”

“Percy, what are you–”

“You've been carrying a torch for me this entire time, right?” Percy asked. He could hear his heartbeat thrumming in his ears, but he needed to know. He felt his veins filling with dread. “Did your crush on me ever go away? Even after I shoved you? Even after I threw up?”

“You threw up?”

“Answer the question!”

“I– I don't– Yeah, I guess, I mean I still–  Yes. I never really... stopped feeling anything. I was worried about you and I was wishing I hadn't done what I'd done because then you wouldn't have left.”

“But you loved me? From the time we kissed to even now?”

“Yes.”

“No contact for an entire year. You still feel the same way.”

“Yes.”

“And you received dreams the entire time.”

Jason's blush darkened, but he held his gaze. “Yes.”

“When you started... feeling things for me. Did it come to you like... like a sudden revelation or something? Was it unexpected? Or did you know it for a while?”

“Percy, what the Pluto is this even–”

“ _Was it sudden?_ ”

“Yes! Geez! Okay, it was sudden! I just kind of started liking you more and then one day I just wanted to kiss you! Okay? Is that so bad?”

Percy let out a shuddering breath and brought his hands over his face.

“Percy?”

“You don't love me. Fuck, you don't even like me that way, Jason.”

“What are you saying? Of course I do.”

“No, no you don't.”

“Yes, I–”

“Ganymede.”

Jason stopped.

“This whole thing is Ganymede. He came to me at Rachel's beach-house. That was where I'd been staying for the past year. He told me... He wanted me to realize my feelings for you. He told me I was just scared. But I didn't... feel anything for you, Jason. You were a friend and I liked you, but not that way. But Ganymede kept pushing it and after that night I just kept having dreams about you and I couldn't stop thinking about you. Don't you understand? I know the story of Ganymede. Especially after that night. And I know his best friend happens to be Eros.  _Eros_ , Jason.”

“What are you saying?”

“This? Between us? Whatever we're feeling for each other? It isn't real.”

Jason stared at him before saying in a quiet, broken voice, “That isn't true. That can't be–”

“Your father is  _Jupiter_ , Jason, of course it can be true. And Ganymede's a god of homosexuality. This whole thing is just a match-making lie.”

“What about,” Jason's voice broke and he had to swallow a few times to get the rest of the sentence out, “what about that kiss? What about last night? If Ganymede was controlling you, wouldn't you be able to tell? Wouldn't it– Percy, this–  You can't tell me you don't feel anything.”

“I'm saying I can't trust what I'm feeling right now,” Percy said, shaking his head. “At least until this quest is over. I need... I just need to clear my head. You should too. If this whole thing is just one big manipulation, then–”

“You should go.”

Percy blinked. “What?”

Jason's face had hardened, but his lips were starting to grimace and his eyes were wet. “I said you should go.”

“Jason, I'm not saying this to hurt you. That's the last thing I want to do. I'm just saying we should take some time–”

“I've had time! I've had an  _entire year_! I know what my own emotions are and I would know if I were being manipulated! Just because  _you're_ chickening out–”

“I'm not–”

“– doesn't mean that I am! If you didn't want to do this, you shouldn't have even started anything!”

“Jason!”

“I said go!”

So Percy left.


	36. Chapter 36

“This is stupid,” Jason hissed to himself as he tossed another rock across the pond. It had rained the previous night so the ground was still wet; Jason could feel the grass dampening his jeans. He’d left Camp Valhalla that morning after avoiding Percy for the rest of yesterday. He felt too claustrophobic in the warehouse, too anxious whenever someone came to check on him. Luckily, Toronto had over a thousand parks.

Jason heaved a sigh and stood up, wiping off the back of his jeans.

He should've known the whole thing was going to end up the way it did. Normal people didn’t come back interested in you after rejecting you and then disappearing for a year. Sure, he’d noticed it was a little... strange. But he hadn’t thought of the gods the way that Percy did. Or if he had, he’d pushed it out of mind, itching, for once, to be happy. He’d let the little bit of hope in the pit of his stomach bloom only for it to be stepped on, but it wasn’t even Percy who’d crushed it. Percy hadn't even liked him in the first place.

Jason chucked the next rock, but the _bloop_ it made as it broke the water’s surface didn’t give him much satisfaction. He wondered if maybe he should find a gym. He pushed his hands down into the pockets of Pollux's borrowed hoodie and sighed long and heavy through his nose.

How many times would he have to be manipulated by the gods until he was able to live a normal life?

“Hey, now, that's a little rude don't you think?”

Jason jolted and whipped his head around.

A guy with tan skin and dark brown curls stood next to him in a University sweatshirt, looking out at the pond like he hadn't just appeared out of nowhere. He looked to be in his late teens, but there was an ageless quality to his face with a kind of androgyny, like Pryderi or Pollux.

Jason swallowed and gave a respectable nod of his head. “I was thinking to myself, Lord Apollo. My apologies for my offenses.”

An amused smile tugged at the guy's lips and, at meeting Jason's eyes, Jason realized his mistake.

“I – Fuck. My apologies, Lord–”

“Relax, son of Jupiter,” Catamitus said and gave him a genuine smile. “I'm immortal, not a god. Technically speaking. I won’t destroy you for something so trivial as mistaking me for Apollo. You forget he is the patron god of my people.”

They were quiet for a number of minutes, listening to the birds in the distant trees and watching the water bubble when a fish came close to the surface.

“I wanted to apologize,” Catamitus said finally.

Jason looked at him in surprise.

“I never meant for this to happen the way it did, but know I do not toy with the hearts of mortals for their hearts are like my own. Regardless of my current nature, I am a child of Prometheus as you are. And like Prometheus, I do not create from what does not already exist. As humans were made from clay, so I, too, water what has already been planted.”

“So it _was_ you,” Jason said, feeling his shoulders sag. “You sent the dreams.”

“I did,” Catamitus agreed. “But dreams are just dreams, son of Jupiter. Humans often forget that what with Freud and all this 'repressed' nonsense. No. There's nothing in dreams aside from strange attempts to recreate reality for the brain must always be active. Thoughts, in sleep, mean nothing. Unless they are conscious thoughts unprovoked by mental illness, they mean nothing. So, yes, I gave you dreams. But I did not provide the emotions that came with them.”

“Sorry?”

“Oh, no need to apologize, it's a common mistake.”

“ _No_ , I mean: what did you say?”

“I said I did not manipulate your emotions.” Catamitus shrugged. “Nor Percy’s. Eros paired the two of you together, but that is not manipulation, that is how the world works. Eros himself is a natural force of nature born from Chaos.”

“You... You're saying Percy likes me.”

“He is still in love with Annabeth, but he likes you enough to have kissed you the other night, yes.”

“That wasn't you.”

“I prefer men with beards, as you are aware.”

"That wasn't... what I meant. I... This whole thing... This wasn't your doing?”

“Oh, no, it was my doing. The prophecy, the quest...”

“But Percy and I– My feelings– _His_ feelings–”

“Were your own.”

Jason felt himself choke and before he could stop himself he drew forward and embraced the immortal in a hug that, fortunately, made Catamitus laugh. “Thank you,” Jason whispered against the curve of the other boy’s shoulder. “ _Thank you_.”

He felt Catamitus’ hands clap against his back and rest there. “I’ve brought the two of you together,” he said, his breath tickling Jason’s ear. “That is all I can do. From this point forward, the fate of your love rests on the two of you.”

Jason nodded once.

“But son of Jupiter,” Catamitus said as they pulled away. He held Jason’s arms and then his gaze, making Jason swallow hard; his eyes were the finest shade of brown Jason had ever seen. “Take heed: this is not the age of heroes.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean: You and Percy are not Paris and Helen. You are not, though I loathe the name, Achilles and Patroclus. You are children of gods and you fight like gods, but your lives will not end like gods.” The sky rumbled at his words, but Catamitus paid it no attention. “What I mean to say is _have fun_ _with this_.” He clapped the side of Jason’s face. “This is meant to be a relationship, yes? Treat it like one and you shall succeed.”

Jason nodded and gave a smile. “Thank you.”

Catamitus winked. “Now back to Camp Valhalla with you. If you throw another rock, that naiad might just kill you.”

“Naiad?” Jason turned toward the pond, but couldn’t see any naiad along the shoreline or among the plants. “I don’t see any–”

But Catamitus was gone.


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably read through this and change some things tomorrow 'cause I'm submitting this without even going through to read it, but I'm so tired right now.

“It just feels like nothing is getting better,” Percy said, raking his nails over his arm as he stared down into the water. He couldn't really remember how they got to the part of the city they were in, only that he needed to go for a walk to keep from having a panic attack, the horrible feeling of the bifrost, and Pollux's steady presence following him until he finally came to a stop on a small, wooden bridge over a pond.

He hadn't been able to sleep the other night, kept awake by tremors and a feeling of suffocation Pollux gently informed him was caused by his focusing too much on his breathing. It wasn't like Percy had expected his anxiety to magically fix itself once he and Jason were together, but he hadn't really expected it to get worse. Granted, he hadn't expected the gods to be forcing him into a relationship. He'd gone through every memory, analyzed everything worrying something he had said, something he had felt wasn't his own thought or feeling. If there was one fear stronger than his fear of drowning, it was a fear of being controlled.

“I came back from Rachel's beach-house expecting things to be better,” Percy said, reaching his hands up to his face and pressing his fingers into his skin, just to feel the pressure, the physicality, the reality of it, “to feel better, to be able to be around people without worrying about what they're thinking. I was in a good place.”

He wasn't sure what he was expecting. A lecture maybe on mental illness and how it couldn't be cured just by going away somewhere or by being in a relationship with someone or whether the gods were controlling your entire move, thought, speech, blink, breathe, breathe, breathebreathe– But he wasn't expecting Pollux's silence, the firm, but gentle hand on his arm. Percy shuddered and waited for the feeling of his mind slowing down. The feeling didn't come. Pollux was just touching him. Just touching. An arm squeeze. Comfort.

“Focus on the water,” Pollux told him. “Do you think you can do that?”

Percy gave a jerky nod. He was a little embarrassed by how soothing he found Pollux's voice, but if Pollux sensed his awkwardness he didn't acknowledge it.

“Close your eyes,” Pollux said. “Listen for the water.”

Percy did as he was told, letting himself fall into total darkness. He felt Pollux's hand on him, the wood of the bridge beneath his finger tips, beneath his feet. He could hear the water just below: soft waves made by the gentle wind, the occasional _bloop_ of a fish rising above the water and sinking back down. He could hear the minds of the tiny creatures swimming, a faint chanting he was apt to ignore: _Son of Poseidon! Son of Poseidon!_ He could smell the clean air, the slight tang wet dirt and cat-tails, of dirty pond.

“Now open your eyes.”

Percy opened his eyes. The sunshine on the water felt brighter, the wood of the bridge crisper, and the grass on the other side of the pond greener.

“How are you feeling?”

“Less like throwing up.”

“That's a start.”

“You didn't do your thing,” Percy said, turning to look at Pollux. He had followed Percy straight from bed and so his blond curls hung about his head like Medusa's snakes if they were made of fluffy wires. If Percy were in a better mood, he might have found it amusing especially what with Nico's aviator jacket being five sizes too small.

“My thing?”

“When we were in the kitchen together that one time, you had touched my arm. My brain had kind of mellowed out when you did it. You didn't do it this time.”

“You would have freaked out if I did,” Pollux said with a small smile. “What with the whole situation and all.”

Point. “Nico doesn't freak out about it?”

Something like indecision crossed over Pollux's face before he brought his hand back and buried it into one of the jacket pockets. How he fit his hands in there Percy didn't know. “He never told you how we met, did he?”

“Up until two days ago, I didn't think he knew you.”

“We met a year ago. Well. We met before.”

“The Battle of Manhattan.”

“Yeah. A year ago, he walked into this coffee house called Equal Grounds where I help run a support group. I don't even think he knew it was a gay coffee house. His face when he saw the rainbow flag was hilarious. Anyway, in retrospect I know he'd just gotten done with a quest with Noah, but I thought he was just some kid who needed guidance, you know? He can look so somber. He was sitting in the corner watching, listening. When the meeting was over, I asked if I could sit with him. We talked for a little bit. I finally recognized who he was, but I didn't say anything. He said he'd just gotten back into town, that he needed a place to stay. I suggested he sleep on my couch. He didn't trust me, I could tell.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “So to persuade him I told him Mr. D would probably kick my ass if I didn't keep another camper safe. That convinced him.”

“And you guys slept together?”

Pollux's face went from fond to horrified. “ _Dionysus_ , no. Nico's fifteen.” 

“But you're dating him.”

“Just because we're dating doesn't mean we're having sex. When he turns seventeen, we'll talk about it, but – and it's not right to out people so I'd appreciate it if you kept this between us – Nico's asexual. I don't expect anything from him. Even if we were sexual, I wouldn't expect anything from him. Sex isn't something that's on the table just because you're dating. You have to talk about what you're doing before hand, during, and after. Communication is key– I'm going support group adviser on you, aren't I?”

Percy smiled. “Just a little.”

“Nico would show up sometimes,” Pollux said, “at my apartment needing a place to sleep. It would happen maybe once every two weeks, then once a week, then we started hanging out a little. We would talk about anything. And everything. We would watch movies. I'd make him dinner. He fell a little in love with my cats.”

“Sounds sweet.”

“It was. Then... something happened.”

Percy frowned and Pollux briefly met his eyes.

“Nico was trying to talk to me about Tartarus.”

Percy's chest tightened.

“He said he wanted to share with me what he'd been sharing with my dad. Believe it or not, my dad _is_ a camp counselor. Nico thought it was the time to talk to someone other than a psychologist..” Pollux licked his lips, stared at his feet. “He started... having an anxiety attack. And I just... reached out. Touched him. And Nico knew I did something.”

“He felt it.”

“He felt it,” Pollux agreed. “And... the way he looked at me... was awful.”

“What happened?” Percy whispered.

“I could see the wheels turning in his head. He thought,” Pollux laughed without humor, an embarrassed, sad laugh, “that I had been manipulating him the whole time. And given who my father is, I couldn't be angry. It made sense. But I told him the truth. I said I wasn't altering his behavior in any way, that I would never do that to him, that I didn't even know how.”

“Then how do you . . . ?”

“My powers are in controlling plants,” Pollux said, “and stabilizing hormones in the brain. I have a more... calming effect. It's manipulative, but your mind is your own even during the process. I'm just...”

“Keeping the boat from rocking.”

“Exactly.”

“So what happened?”

“He didn't come home for two weeks.”

They were silent for a long moment, just watching the water. Then Percy said, almost afraid to break the silence, “But he came back.”

“He said he knew I was telling the truth,” Pollux said, “because if I had been manipulating him, he wouldn't have been arguing with himself the entire time we were together.” He smiled. “He isn't sexually attracted to me, but he felt something... And he wasn't sure about what to make of it. He was still trying to get over someone.”

“Who?”

Pollux smiled at him as if Percy were looking over a hilarious joke he knew he wouldn't get. “Nobody.. But it doesn't matter.” He shifted so he was leaning against the wooden rail. “What matters is he realized I wasn't making him feel anything he didn't already feel.”

Percy stared down into the water, watching a fish swim slowly beneath the surface. “Is this some kind of metaphor I'm meant to apply to my own life?”

“Something like that.”

“But how can I know for sure?” He felt his eyes wetting and tried to hold it back. But he was exhausted and his anxiety had beaten him to his nerve's end.

“You said you thought Jason and Nico were dating, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you ever try to break them up?”

“What?”

“Did you ever try to break up Nico and Jason when you thought they were dating?”

“I... No.”

“And why was that?”

“Because... I wanted him... to be happy.”

“Say that again?”

“I wanted him to be happy.”

“Well, there you go.”

“What?”

Pollux smiled. “If you were being forced to love Jason, your instincts would be the ones listening to you, not your conscience. It wouldn't have mattered if Jason and Nico were dating. You would have tried to separate them the best way possible and most likely the most entertaining way possible. The gods enjoy humiliation.”

“I don't... understand what you're saying.”

“I'm saying I think it's unlikely you've been manipulated into loving Jason. And to be honest, as a child of Dionysus, I would have noticed if you weren't yourself.”

“You're sure?”

“Percy. Your thoughts, your feelings, are your own. And always have been. You wouldn't have pushed Jason off of you, ran away, and then refused to break apart two people who weren't actually dating if you  _were_ being controlled. Your free-will is yours, Percy.”

Percy stared at him until Pollux began to shift uncomfortably under his gaze. “And Jason?”

“Has he seemed unlike himself at all?”

“... No.”

“Then I guess there can only be one answer.”

And there was, which was why Percy's tears couldn't hold back anymore and he moved forward, pulling Pollux into a tight hug.

“Hey,” Pollux said gently, squeezing back, “you're okay. You're okay. This is good news, you know, this is–  _Percy_ .”

“I'll be off of you in a second, man, okay, it's perfectly–“

“No, Percy, look.”

Percy pulled away, wiping his eyes. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling. Euphoric couldn't even cover it. “What?”

“In the water.”

Percy glanced over the edge of the bridge, then did a double-take. “Is that...?”

Pollux turned and grinned at him. “A golden hoop.”

 


	38. Chapter 38

Percy was nervous the entire way back, pulling his sweatshirt sleeves down and then pushing them back up again, unable to keep still. He had no idea what to say to Jason.

“I was wrong, but I hope you'll understand why I thought I was right?” he said, looking to Pollux.

Pollux merely shrugged.

Percy sagged. “You gave plenty of advice before!”

“I'm only good at advice when it comes to coming out, self-acceptance, and uplifting someone's spirit. I'm not actually good at telling people what to say.”

Percy groaned as they came up to the Fairmont Royal York Hotel. “What if he doesn't want to talk to me?”

“Then wait until he's ready to talk to you,” Pollux said with another shrug. He looked sheepish. “Sorry I'm not much help.”

“It's fine. You have a tattoo, though, right? To get us back into the warehouse?”

Pollux blinked. “Well, yeah. You do too.”

“Wait, what?”

“The vikings don't just let anyone into their camp. Once you're allowed in, you're claimed.”

“Claimed?” Pollux gestured to the spot behind Percy's ear and Percy touched it, confused when he felt a small bit of pain as if he were touching a sun burn. “When did that happen?”

“There's a reason why your first time taking the Bifrost is the worst,” Pollux said.

Percy let Pollux take care of getting the password from Heimdallr – he couldn't even remember what Noah had said to her to even get her to notice him, let alone how to pronounce it – and followed him down and through PATH. The Mist must've covered the large, golden hoop held under Percy's arm; no one even gave them a second glance. “What do you do when Nico's mad at you?” Percy asked as they moved around a flower shop, almost knocking over an entire vase of roses.

“Apologize.”

“... That's it?”

“Well, I mean, we talk about it and try to come to an understanding. I don't know. We don't like to go to bed angry with each other.” He bit into his thumb and made the mark on the wall the way Noah had and Percy followed him into the “elevator” when the wall opened. “Like I said, I don't really have much knowledge on what to do aside from talking to them.”

“Talking to Jason will solve everything?”

Pollux laughed. “No. But it'll open the door you guys have shut on each other.”

“I'm starting to think you don't give real advice, just metaphors.”

Pollux smiled. “It happens when you're friends with the Apollo cabin.”

 

** 

 

After some nausea medication and a Xanax, Percy set off to find Jason, which turned out not to be as difficult as he had originally thought. Because as it turned out, Jason was looking for him too.

They stood there on opposite ends of the hallway, Percy having just come down from the third floor, Jason up from the first.

“Hey,” Percy croaked and then cleared his throat. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I wanted... to talk to you.”

“Me too.”

They came a few steps closer, Percy fiddling with his sweatshirt sleeves, Jason wiping his hands on the front of his jeans.

“I had a talk with Catamitus,” Jason said, then shook his head, “er, Ganymede.”

“You did?”

“He said... He said he didn't manipulate... us. Or anything. Well, the dreams, but not our... feelings for each other. That is, if you... I mean if--”

“I talked with Pollux,” Percy said, taking another few steps closer. “He said... That he would've been able to tell if I wasn't myself. That if I wasn't... That if I was being controlled, I would have tried to break you and Nico up, that I--”

“You're you, then.”

“I'm me.”

“And I'm me.”

“And you're you.”

They closed the space between them, standing now only an inch apart. Percy could smell the faint mintiness of Jason's breath, could see the flecks of gray in his blue eyes, the small curve of his Roman nose.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“You found the golden hoop.”

“Yeah.”

“So our quest...”

“Yeah.”

Jason swallowed, leaned forward. “Hey.”

Percy shuddered. “Hey.”

"We already said that."

"Yeah."

"Twice."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry about--"

"No, I'm--"

"We--"

"Yeah."

"So."

"Yeah."

"Hey."

"Shut up."

The last thing Percy remembered was their lips touching. And then they were standing in the middle of Zeus' palace on Mt. Olympus, someone clapping slowly behind them.

Percy turned, only instead of Zeus sitting on his throne, it was Ganymede. He looked like how Percy himself had looked sitting on his father's chair at the age of fifteen: small, fragile, human. Except Ganymede wasn't smoking sitting in Zeus' throne, threatening to combust. He was smiling, his elbows on his knees, and although his hair seemed to change from blond to dark brown and back again, his eyes were the same, his skin color the same, that look of quiet mirth – the same. And beside him, leaning against Zeus' throne, was a man Percy didn't recognize. His skin was darker than Ganymede's, almost black as night, with dreadlocks pulled up into a ponytail. He wasn't looking at them, just down at his phone, but just from his profile Percy could tell he was immensely beautiful.

“Boys,” Ganymede said, once he'd stopped clapping, “you've retrieved my hoop. I thank you.”

“Lord Catamitus,” Jason said, leaning down to bow. Percy awkwardly followed suit.

“What did I say about the formalities, Jason?” Ganymede said, raising an amused eyebrow. “Really, it has only been an hour. You'd think I was your step-father.”

“But you,” Jason blinked, “are?”

Ganymede paused and looked up as if to think about it, making the man beside him snort. “I supposed I am. But anyhow, you need not use formalities with me. Centuries have shown me their uselessness. As long as you are respectful,” his eyes shot a knowing look to Percy, “you will have no need to worry.”

“Yes, Lord.”

“My golden hoop, son of Jupiter,” Ganymede said and as Percy handed the hoop to Jason, the immortal's hair once more turned brown. It fascinated Percy that Ganymede's appearance would change despite the fact that he was neither Roman nor Greek.

Ganymede caught his eye as if he could read his thoughts and for all Percy knew, he could. He took hold of the hoop from Jason, a fond smile coming over his face as he ran his fingers over it. Then he looked back up at Percy, his fond smile gone. “My appearance changes only for the Greeks,” he said. “They were fond of rarities such as blond hair. They assumed I must have been of such rare beauty to gain the attention of the king of gods.” He smiled back at the hoop and finally slid down from Zeus' throne. He was shorter than all of them, Percy realized. Nico's height. “Believe it or not, dark hair, dark eyes, and dark skin can be just as beautiful to the gods.”

“As well as cockiness,” said the man beside him.

“Excuse you, I am not cocky, I am _confident._ ”

“Is that what you children are calling it these days?”

“Rude.”

“I'm sorry,” Jason said as he returned to Percy's side, and although his voice was quiet, it echoed in the throne room. “Who are you?” The man looked up at them both then and at the brief flash of redness in his eyes Percy saw Jason stiffen.

“What?” Percy asked. “You know him?”

“He outed Nico to me.”

“He...?” Percy frowned.

“Cupid.”

“Eros, actually,” said the man, tilting his posture so he was leaning more casually against the throne, facing them now, but still looking down at his phone. He reminded him of Hermes, but less urgent, like he'd been spending time abroad and had learned to relax. “But good to see you remember.”

“Why is he here?” Jason asked, surprising Percy. He had never heard the son of Jupiter speak angrily to a god before. But Ganymede didn't look phased and neither did Eros.

“We have a date,” Ganymede said, “at an arcade in Illinois. Love doesn't happen by itself.” He winked at them. At their faces, Ganymede rolled his eyes. “I'm joking. We're going to go see Hedwing and the Angry Inch. But thank you, boys, for your trouble. Really. It means a lot to me.”

“You lost it on purpose,” Percy said with a frown, but the only response he got was a shrug.

“Well, yes,” Ganymede said, “but how else would you have noticed your feelings?”

He winked at them and before he or Jason could say another word, he snapped his fingers and said, “Have a safe trip, boys.”

And then they were right back where they had been, in the middle of the hall on the second floor of Camp Valhalla save for Nico standing awkwardly in the between them, eyes wide in shock and holding a glass of water to the side to save it from spilling.

“Um,” Jason said, trying not to laugh and taking a step backward while Percy cracked up nervously. “Hey there, Nico.”

“I don't do three-ways,” Nico deadpanned, stepping away from them and heading for the stairs.

Jason and Percy made eye-contact and just like that burst out laughing.

Everything was going to be okay.

 


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might edit this in the morning.

The next morning, the ship was ready.

Jason had no idea what to say. The Argo II looked exactly how it had been, if not better, with polished wood so sleek you wouldn't even consider it to be a warship. His pleasure must've shown on his face, too, because when he turned to thank Noah, the lieutenant's eyes were brighter than Jason had seen them in the past few days.

“You're an innovative people,” Jason told him with a grin as they clasped hands. “Thank you.”

“Anything for a friend,” Noah said with a nod. “Percy has told me your decisions.”

“Has he?” Jason quirked an eyebrow.

“He has. We will await the decisions of your colleagues at Camp Half-Blood. But in the meantime, thank _you._ ”

“As if we could let the world end.”

“As if we had a choice.”

They held eye-contact and shared a private smile. In that moment, Jason realized just how much Noah reminded him of Reyna and not just because he was Latino and she Latina. There was an understanding of sacrifice between them, the children made soldiers. There would be no settling down for a simple life; there was no choice to do so. Noah had lost an arm saving his brother, Jason thought, and he would do it again.

“I hope we will see you soon,” Noah said.

“You're good people here,” Jason said, squeezing his hand. “I can see why Nico's so protective of you all.”

Noah smiled. “We're not the only ones he's protective of.”

**

They boarded that afternoon, taking straight from the roof of Camp Valhalla.

Aaliyah didn't say goodbye, but nodded to them once from the back of the crowd. Pryderi gave him a strong hug and wished him well. Many demigods said goodbye to Nico, making Jason's heart swell with a kind of pride. It was nice to see him happy and having friends and just as nice to know he'd have just as many back at Camp Half-Blood.

What made his heart swell the most, though, was seeing Percy waiting for him on deck, smile bright on his face and dressed in...

“Is that a leopard print hoodie?” Jason asked with a grin.

“I spilled orange juice on my sweatshirt last night, bite me,” Percy said, leaning back from the deck.

“Venus bless Pollux's sense of style.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“So how are you doing?” Jason asked, leaning against the deck beside him as Pollux and Nico climbed on-board. “You had some nightmares last night.”

“I'm doing,” Percy said with a shrug. “Pollux suggested talking to his father when we get back to Camp. I'm not overly fond of Mr. D, but... Pollux says when it comes to actual disorders, he isn't an asshole.”

“That's good.”

“Yeah. For now, Pollux lent me some Xanax.”

“Some... Isn't giving drugs out to people illegal?”

“I've accidentally blown up my school before, don't try to lecture me on law.”

Jason smiled. “Just know I'll be here for you, okay? Thick and thin, nightmares and daydreams.”

“My saving grace.”

“I take it back, I'm breaking up with you.”

“Already tried that, can't do it twice.”

Jason nudged him with his lip. “We're a work in progress, you and I. And I'll be there to help you become the best you want to be.”

Percy turned and gave him a soft look that reminded Jason, corny or not, of the sea. Calm, serene, with a silent kind of danger beneath the surface. Jason had never wanted to kiss someone so much in his life. But he kept it to himself, simply returning the look. The last thing he wanted was to interrupt a moment like this with cat-calls from down below. 

“Thank you,” Percy whispered, but it sounded an awful lot like 'I love you.'

The chorus of goodbyes was almost deafening and Jason, Percy, Nico, and Pollux all waved as the ship took off into the blue, Toronto sky. They'd be home soon enough.

**

By the time the sun started to go down, they'd re-entered American territory and set the ship on auto-pilot so each of them could catch some sleep before they landed in New York in the next two to three hours.

Percy had Nico and Pollux take his cabin, deeming Jason's cabin safer for the two of them because of Jason's powers. “You know, we could all take our own cabin,” Pollux had suggested, but it was mostly out of amusement than as an actual suggestion. Although Jason started to reconsider the suggestion when he realized he and Percy would be changing in the same room.

He coughed awkwardly into his arm once they'd closed the door and Percy set his bag over in the corner. “Um, do you... I can face the other way if you want to change?”

Percy looked at him oddly. “We're both guys, Jason, relax. It's nothing you haven't seen before.” But he paused in pulling his shirt up over his head. “Unless you're trans, though, and you don't want me to see you topless and stuff yet, in which case I totally understand and will so totally turn around if you're uncomfortable or if you're cis and still uncomfortable I'll still turn around or if you're like non-binary and uncomfortable I can--”

“Jupiter, Percy, relax,” Jason said with a laugh. “I'm not uncomfortable, I'm just... I wasn't sure if you would be.”

“Oh. No, I'm fine.”

“You're sure?”

“I'm sure. Are you fine?”

“I'm fine, yeah.”

“ _You're_ sure?”

“I'm sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They stood there, Percy still half-way between taking his shirt off and leaving it on, and then they broke out into nervous laughter and shimmied a little to the side so if they saw each other it was only in their peripheral vision.

“So,” Percy said, shirt in hand.

“So,” Jason said, shirt also in hand and not meeting his eyes.

“Pajamas?”

“Huh?”

“Do we,” Percy cleared his throat, “do we, uh, wear pajamas or? Or like, uh, sleep, um... Nak... Uh...”

“Whatever you, ah, feel comfortable doing.”

“I think I'd, I'd, um, be comfortable with... With sleeping...”

“Naked?”

“Na-Naked, yeah, uh...”

“Right.”

“So, uh, pants...”

“Yeah.”

They stood staring at each other again, then once more laughed before undoing their jeans and letting them drop to the floor.

“I, uh,” Jason licked his lips. “I like your underwear.”

“Thanks,” Percy said, running his nails gently down his left arm. “Uhm. Macy's.”

“Huh?”

“I got them at Macy's. There was a sale.”

“Oh, that's cool.”

“Yeah.”

“Eight-packs are really expensive.”

“Yeah. Uhm, your underwear's... Yours is uh... Nice... Too.”

“I'm not wearing any.”

“I know, but I thought-- I don't know, I was-- It's polite.”

“Right. Thanks.”

“Welcome.”

“I got them when I was born.”

Percy laughed, making the atmosphere a little less tense. 

He removed his own underwear, but before the awkwardness could return, Jason took a step closer to him, a smile growing on his face. “There was a sale on foreskins. I see you didn't get the memo.”

Percy's shoulders were shaking. “I got the memo, but an old man beat me to the pair.”

“I hope the wine he gave you compensated for it.”

“Are you calling me a lush, Jason Grace?”

Jason smiled and closed the distance between then, running the pads of his fingers down the smoothness of Percy's cheek to the square of his jaw, down his neck to his collarbone. He let his fingers trace over the beads of Percy's camp necklace, over the Star of David hanging by the thin, gold chain. “I'm calling you beautiful, Percy Jackson.”

They kissed, Percy's lips soft and warm against his. He ran his hands down over Percy's broad shoulders, over the flat of his pectorals, over his nipples, relishing in the shudder Percy gave him.

Percy followed his movements, dragging his nails down through Jason's hair and over the back of his neck, pulling back from the kiss in order to watch his left hand slide down over Jason's chest. He hoped Percy liked what he saw and by the heated look Percy gave him he knew the answer could only be yes.

They didn't fall onto the bed in a heat of passion like in movies, but instead sat down on it gently, exploring each others bodies with their fingers and mouths, relishing in every gasp, recording every movement that made the other make a particularly good noise.

Percy, Jason learned, like it when he squeezed at the base, loosened, and then squeezed at the tip. He also liked it when Jason ran his fingers over a certain spot on his lower back although he never heard of that spot being sensitive on anyone else before.

Jason also learned that Percy's puppy eyes weren't always purposeful as a means of getting his way. His eyebrows rose in the middle each time Jason rolled his thumb over his slit and tugged his balls at the same time. And when Jason happened to lick him just right?  _Bam._ The puppy eyes appeared. And the best part was that Percy had no idea.

But Percy wasn't the only one he learned about that night. He learned perineum play was a thing for him, shuddering each time Percy bowed his head and pushed a finger firmly just under his balls and down, down, circling his hole and then moving back up. He learned he loved the feeling of someone's hands between his thighs, just rubbing along the sensitive skin. He learned he liked the way Percy breathlessly called him “Superman.”

There was lube and fingers and Percy's lips on his lips. There was an uncomfortable feeling, a gentle, burning pain. There was Percy's hand on his cock, Percy's mouth on his ear. There were apologies and kisses; “wait, wait, wait”s; “I've got you”s; questions and breathless, shuddering answers. There were hitched cries and groans.

Jason gasped Percy's name.

They went slow.

So slow.

And then.

And  _then._

Jason clawed at Percy's shoulders, holding on and breathing harshly through his nose, through his mouth, feeling the pressure build in his lower stomach, unable to be stopped, not wanting to be stopped. Each thrust was like a new discovery more vulnerable than the last, a new shock of lightning in a hurricane.

“I'm gonna--” is all Jason could choke out, but all Percy could do was nod, his hips losing their rhythm and turning more into an act of desperate bucking. There was thunder rumbling somewhere in the distance and Jason felt it shudder through him as he came in silence, head thrown back. Percy finished a minute or so after, head buried in the crook of Jason's neck and his moans coming out like relieved sobs.

They pulled apart slowly, gasping in the dark of the room with the sound of a hard rain pattering against the deck up above.

“I think,” Percy whispered against Jason's shoulder, “I think I made your dad mad.”

Jason laughed then, silent and raspy and just a little bit hysterical.

He felt Percy grin against his skin. “What?”

“That wasn't my father.”

Silence.

And then they were both laughing silently, breath coming out in high-pitched gasps.

They had caused a thunderstorm.

 


	40. Chapter 40

It was late when they landed in the Sound, but Percy felt more awake than he had in a while. He almost didn't wake up any of the others he was so content just watching Jason sleep.

Usually demigods looked the most like their mortal parent. He'd been told by the Stolls that it was because the gods didn't have DNA, but eventually he'd learned from Annabeth that it was because the gods' version of genetics was on an entirely different level and so it stayed within the genotype and very rarely showed itself in the phenotype.

But looking at Jason? Percy could _see_ the part that was half-god.

With his face against the pillow, he looked almost like Apollo with the soft waves of his hair curling down over his forehead. Percy woke him up by reaching forward and pulling them away from his eyes, which fluttered open to look at him. Even if Percy had tried to stop his smile, he was sure he wouldn't have been able to.

“Hey, there,” Percy whispered.

Jason's face broke out into his own smile. “Hey.”

“We're here.”

“Already?”

“Yeah.”

“Are Pollux and Nico up?”

“I haven't left to check.”

“How long have you been up?”

Percy flushed. “I haven't slept.”

Jason frowned. “You've just been laying here this whole time?”

“Is it creepy if I say yes?”

Jason chest vibrated with his laugh. “Come on. I'm sure they want to get off this boat as much as we do.”

“We'll have to sleep in our own cabins,” Percy said quietly as Jason took off the comforter.

“Says who?” Jason asked.

“The rules?” Percy said with a frown.

Jason gave him a look as he stood up, giving Percy a strange sense of deja vu. “Since when do you care about the rules?”

“Believe it or not, I don't actually enjoy the possibility of being incinerated for sleeping in the cabin of Zeus. Er... Jupiter? Your dad doesn't exactly like me.”

“What about your cabin?”

“What?”

“Would your dad have a problem with me being in your cabin?”

Percy frowned, thinking about it. Poseidon had never really shown much anger towards him before. It was only Dionysus and Chiron who had giving them looks of warning when Annabeth had sat at Poseidon's table with him and Grover. “I think he'd be okay with it.”

“Then we'll do your cabin.” Jason pulled his t-shirt over his head, then turned to look at Percy, lip between his teeth. “If that's okay with you.”

“That's more than fine with me,” Percy said.

Jason smiled. “Great. Now, let's go wake up David and Goliath.”

**

“I'm going to go talk to my dad,” Pollux said as they disembarked onto the sand. “That way he'll know you're coming to see him in the morning.”

Percy felt his stomach twist nervously. “Are you sure he--?”

“He's a dick to people who are a dick to him,” Pollux said. “But he really does care about mental health, I promise.”

“He won't turn me into a dolphin?”

Pollux smiled. “No. But if it makes you feel better, he definitely wouldn't knowing that you're my friend.”

“Is that why he's so fond of Nico?” Percy asked.

“He's fond of Nico because Nico fanboy'd over him the first time they met.”

“I did not,” Nico grumped. His hair was disheveled from sleep, his aviator jacket half-on.

“You did so,” Pollux said, smiling. “You saw how happy he was at dinner that night.”

“I don't remember him being happy,” Percy said with a frown. Although it had been four years ago.

“It's hard to tell if you don't know what to look for.”

When they all touched the sand, the latter of the Argo II automatically reverted back into the wall of the ship. The four of them stared at it and then at each other.

“We'll see you in the morning?” Jason asked, his voice sounding a little hopeful.

Nico nodded with a smile. “I'm not due back to Camp Valhalla for a few weeks. I'll hang around for a bit.”

“I'll be here in the morning, but I have a show tomorrow night,” Pollux said.

“We could come see it,” Percy said, perking up.

Pollux blinked at them. “Really? You'd want to?”

“Yeah!”

“But I'm only doing lighting.”

“Well, lighting's an important part of the show, right?”

Pollux face went pink, then red when Nico nudged him with a smile.

“We'd love for you guys to come,” Nico said.

They said their good-nights and headed their separate ways once over Half-Blood hill, Jason squeezing Percy's hand as they came up the walk toward Cabin Three.

“You sure you'll be okay with Mr. D?” Jason asked.

“I trust Pollux,” Percy said.

Jason nodded and gave him another hand squeeze as they came to the cabin's door.

Percy could smell the familiar tang of salt water and although the windows were closed, a faint ocean breeze swept through his hair and over his face.

Finally. _Home._

“You're sure your dad will be fine with me being in here?” Jason asked as they opened the door.

Clothes still littered the floor where they had been when Percy left a year ago, his bed sheets still pulled back on his bunk.

“I'm sure.”

He turned, smiling as he took Jason's hands in his own.

Jason smiled back, looking a little unsure. “Percy?”

“I like you.”

“I--” There was the briefest moment where Jason almost tucked his head. Almost. And Percy saw it. He smiled a little wider. “I like you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then he won't do anything to you.”

“Okay.”

“Now come over to the fountain.”

“Why?”

“I want you to meet my mom.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR READING!
> 
> And for continuing to read through all the hiatuses and short written chapters! It's been a blast.
> 
> You can find me (and some drabbles and stuff) on Tumblr at: http://enbyofdionysus.tumblr.com/


End file.
